Harry Potter and the Curse of Ages
by 1hoopyfrood
Summary: Harry Potter and his allies have won the war against Voldemort. Now it's time to get on with life, which Harry finds more murky and conflicted than he had expected. His search for a solution leads him to a greater danger than he has ever known before.
1. The Morning After

Chapter 1 – The Morning After

It was a new day literally and figuratively. Now what! Harry had simply never given much thought to what he would do when his years of schooling at Hogwarts were over. The truth is that he hadn't even really thought about being alive that long. The question in his mind wasn't so much one of what he would be doing in a couple of weeks or next year – Dumbledore had seen to giving Harry some attractive options about that - rather, he did not know what he would be doing the next day!

All the maneuvering of both Voldemort's forces and those who opposed him had culminated in the largest battle of sorcerers ever, right on the Hogwarts grounds, mostly in the Forbidden Forest. Harry had trained all the defenders of Hogwarts in fighting skills and they had practiced fighting in units out of his sight. They had to do so out of Harry's view since the connection forged when Voldemort first tried to kill him had given each of them full knowledge of what went on in the other's mind. Harry's allies had also used their time out of sight to make many preparations, from setting traps and creating a dragon-ready Floo connection to bring in trained dragons to arranging for other allies to join in when the battle commenced and encircle Voldemort's forces. The advantage of well-disciplined forces was fully on the defender's side and the battle turned into a rout, though not without heavy casualties for both sides.

In the end, though, the victory could only be sealed by Harry facing and defeating Voldemort. He tried it once at the end of the battle and failed, getting Ron Weasley mortally wounded before Voldemort escaped. This turned out for the good, however, as it forced Harry to discover a power within him to heal others, a power he had inherited from his mother, but with his greater power was able to take to a level far beyond what she had ever achieved. The process of healing, powered by caring for the ailing enough for Harry to make those injuries his own so that he could heal them within his own body, had enlightened Harry as to the importance of practicing love for all – including those who are most unlovable. Armed with this new power and outlook, Harry set out to meet Voldemort again and to heal the sickness of his soul. In the struggle that followed, both had a divine intervention which showed them their place amongst all souls: neither more nor less important than any other person. This had been inspiring to Harry, but crushing to Voldemort, who considered himself so much greater than anyone else. Shattered by this knowledge, Voldemort had died. Harry and his friends returned to Hogwarts for a victory celebration like none other.

When the celebration had finally come to an end, Harry started asking around to see what others were doing, at least among those he could ask. The school's remaining population had dropped precipitously. The vast majority of students had left with their parents, or other family for those who like him were orphans, when the celebrations had dwindled. As much as the DA had been enthusiastic in battle, they were as glad as Harry was for the war to finally be over, and they were all more than ready to get to their homes and just be kids again. The school was almost as empty as during typical Christmas breaks. Those that were left were exhausted and simply dragged themselves off to bed for a long sleep. Some didn't even bother making it all the way to their beds: here and there, on divans or chairs or just out on the grounds in the midsummer warmth, were a number of people who just couldn't be bothered making it to bed – Hogwarts elves had gone around to each one and gently placed a pillow beneath their heads and a blanket over them.

Harry had made it to his bed after having capped off the celebration in perfect contentment, holding Ginny in his arms and dancing slowly with her, surrounded by others doing the same with the partners they too loved, until the twilight of the dawn warned of the coming day. Now it was the morning after the celebration and everyone was supposed to leave, whether by the Hogwarts' Express or otherwise.

"Come with us for a while," said Ron, as they packed and sorted their things. "We can just have some fun, and you can help me figure out which way to go now."

"Come with you where?" asked Harry. "Are you going to The Burrow or Grimmauld Place?"

"Oh, right. I don't much even think of my folks living in London. I guess we could go to either one – we know how to fend for ourselves, and besides Winky is at The Burrow."

"I reckon. We could ask Mum anyway," replied Harry, who had only started calling Mr. and Mrs. Weasley the day before, but found that he enjoyed it, even though it was not quite natural yet. "Except … I was kind of hoping if I'm not here, I would be with Ginny, and I'm not sure Mum and Dad would like it if she and I were sharing a house without one of them around."

"I'd be there, and maybe Hermione as well. Let's go see what the girls want to do."

They went down to the common room and called up the girls' stairwell. Soon they heard Ginny and Hermione coming out of their dorms.

"Back away, Ron," said Harry. Harry took a run at the stairs and bounded up about twelve of them in three great strides before the steps all flattened into a slide, plopping him unceremoniously on the common room floor. He laughed as he laid back. The girls, too, were caught by the stairs' change and came whizzing down the stairs on top of Harry.

"Ha! The stairs don't seem to think I'm anything special," laughed Harry. "I like that!"

"Why should they? You're just another randy boy!" giggled Hermione. As serious as she was about academics, training and careers, she understood there was a time to relax, and there had not been in a long while such a good time as this for it.

"Hooray for that!" said Ginny, snuggling back against Harry, as he wrapped his arms around her, bent down and kissed her.

Hermione got up, and brushed her self off. Still Harry and Ginny snogged.

After a fair few conspicuous seconds more, Ron pointedly cleared his throat.

Hermione laughed again. "Yeah, you two, get a room."

Ginny hopped up and gave Harry a hand. "Great idea! Harry, let's go to yours since you can't use the stairs to mine."

Ron stepped into the doorway and stared at them.

Harry grinned at him. "You can stand there now, Ron, but next school year Ginny and I will both be here at Hogwarts and you won't – AND I'll have private quarters."

"Besides I'm just a few weeks from being an adult, _Ronald_," said Ginny.

"Aren't there school rules about teachers and students? Oh, I give up - just show a little discretion, okay. I'm still the big brother," sighed Ron.

"And it's sweet," said Ginny, patting his cheek, "and remember that I'm still the little sister who can put a world of hurt on big brothers who overstep their bounds."

Hermione stepped in. "You boys called us. I don't think this is what you had in mind."

"Oh, yeah!" said Ron. "We were talking and realized we don't really know where to go. End of term has always meant the Burrow for Ginny and me and Surrey for Harry. I invited him to come with us, but we don't really know if we should go to The Burrow or London."

"Or someplace else," added Harry tantalizingly.

"Ooh, have you got something in mind?" asked Ginny.

"Well, not for today, but I figure I've earned a holiday – if I can figure out how to do it – and I certainly can afford it. I can take us all."

"That sounds like a lot of fun!" squealed Ginny, then getting more serious. "Ooh, if Mum wouldn't raise too much of a ruckus."

"Well, it sounds like fun, Harry, …" said Hermione with a reluctance that demanded a further inquiry.

"But what, Hermione?" asked Harry.

"I'd feel kind of odd going as your guest, like I'd be beholden."

Harry laughed. "You goose. I'm the one beholden to you for all the help and friendship you've given me over the years. Besides, having time with you and Ginny and Ron without school or work or a war to worry about would be the best present I could ever give myself. Sirius left me a pile of gold, and I'm sure he would want me to spend some of it unwinding from all this."

"Indeed I would," said the portrait Sirius, smiling from the frame of the picture he had gone to when Harry and Ron had gone downstairs. "Harry is sorely in need of learning to have fun."

"Well, that sounds fine," said Ron, "but that will take some planning. Where are we going right now? And are we even going to take the Hogwarts Express?"

"Well, there'll hardly be anyone on it," said Ginny. "I doubt if there are twenty Gryffindors left. Most parents took their kids with them after the party."

"I've checked with the other houses, too," said Hermione. "They're just as sparse."

"Well, we're all rated to apparate with our things," said Ron. "Oh, but not pets - but Harry can take Crookshanks and the owls can meet us. If we took the train back to London, we'd still have to apparate anyway, so let's not bother with it. But where are we going?"

"My parents expect me," said Hermione. "They're still brimming with questions about what I've been up to here besides arithmancy and potions. Actually I'm sure their heads are quite reeling. I'm afraid they heard some stories that left more questions than answers."

"I could come, too," said Ron hopefully.

Hermione cocked her head at him. "Maybe in a few days, Ron. I think having you with me might raise even more questions."

"What?" said Ron peevishly. "You're embarrassed of me around your folks."

She stroked his cheek. "No, Ron, not at all; I'd just be uncomfortable being affectionate with you around my parents, but I couldn't resist you if you were there."

"Ooh, she's good," said Ginny to Harry. "How'd an only child learn to do like that?"

"Ahh, she's a natural. She's had Ron and I wrapped around her finger since first year."

Hermione glared at him, fists on her hips. "Hardly. You two were a handful to manage."

"Then you don't deny you tried to manage us," said Harry, arching his eyebrows.

"Well, not manage exactly."

"Hold on, now," said Ron. "I don't think I like the idea of being controlled."

Harry and Ginny both laughed.

"Of course you don't, Ron," said Ginny sarcastically. "That's why you've fallen for Hermione!"

"Hey, are you calling me controlling?" asked Hermione.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, no! Of course not. Seriously, Hermione, you don't do it in a bad way. You actually listen to Ron, but you do tend to direct things quite a bit."

"Really? I hadn't seen myself that way."

"There you go, Hermione. Instead of getting mad at being called controlling, you give it some thought. That's why it's not too hard to deal with – you're willing to consider things," said Ginny. "You set the initial plan but you listen to other ideas. It's why you were a great Head Girl."

"Was I really?"

"Oh, don't listen to her," said Ron. "That sort of compliment is how she always manipulated us brothers."

"OH! So you're saying I wasn't a good Head Girl, Ron?"

"I didn't say that, I just meant that Ginny, … oh, bloody hell, how did I get into this?"

"Back to the subject," said Harry, saving Ron, "of where to go. As I think about it, I reckon I'd better spend at least a few days here, getting situated for the fall so everything will be ready if I can take that holiday. I also know I've got to get some training for being a teacher, so any plans I make have to work around that."

"Okay, Harry, that makes sense, and you know you're more than welcome to come be with us any time at all," said Ginny. "Well, Ron, how about London for you and me until we can work out plans for the rest of the summer with these two?"

Ron nodded. "That'll do. I'll be well-situated to look into quidditch teams."

"Quidditch?" said Hermione. "After all we've been through this year, you're going to look into quidditch?"

"Well, we'll see. McGonagall said I'd probably have a good shot, especially with the notoriety from the War. She said they might take me as a reserve keeper, probably second- or third-string to start, or because I'm tall and starting to fill out, they might want to try training me as a beater," said Ron. "It would give me time to work on making connections through the wizarding world and developing other magical skills I might need for a career after quidditch. Besides, I couldn't even get considered for auror school for a few years yet."

"Wow, Ron," Hermione replied, hugging him from the side, "that's not badly thought out. I can see that a sports career before becoming an auror or starting a business or whatever else you might choose makes sense that way. I hadn't really thought about it much before. It got Ludo Bagman into the Ministry, though, didn't it?"

"I hope I'll be able to do better afterwards than that git did!"

"Learn not to make others' mistakes," cautioned Hermione.

"Aah, that's the Hermione we all know," teased Ginny, collecting a playful scowl from Hermione.

"And love!" added Ron, earning a gasp from Hermione, to which he returned a grin.

"Any notion who you'd play for?" asked Harry.

"Well, anyone, really, but you know I've always been big on the Chudley Cannons."

"Oh? Really?" said Harry, rolling his eyes again. "Well, keep me informed. I'm looking into quidditch as well – pretty much the same reasons."

"Any chance you two could play on the same team?" asked Hermione. "It certainly would make attending the games and knowing who to cheer for easier."

"We'll see," said Harry with a wink. "We don't know that there's a team with an opening for both another seeker and another keeper."

Ginny shoved him playfully. "Yeah, like there's a team in Britain that wouldn't make room for the two of you."

"Maybe, Ginny, but we wouldn't want to make the team just because we're known," said Harry.

"There's nothing wrong with that, Harry," said Hermione. "Fame gets your foot in the door: ability will get you playing time. Just don't get anxious if you don't get to start all the games, thinking it's just because you're a display piece. Remember that you'll be a rookie, so there'll be a much more experienced seeker, or two or three, on the squad."

"Okay, good point. Don't let fame be either a crutch or a disability. How about you, Hermione? What are you going to be doing?"

"Oh, well, you know …" she said, trailing off.

Ginny laughed. "She's going to be Hermione, that's what. She applied for the advanced training programs for both healer and the Department of Mysteries – said she had to keep her options open. Well, she got accepted to both, with full fellowships."

"Well, I'm ashamed to say I didn't know that, but I've had quite a bit on my mind these past few months. So which are you going to do, Hermione?" asked Harry.

"Didncha hear Ginny, Harry?" said Ron, with a laugh. "She's going to be Hermione: she's taking both. The schedules are compatible, so she'll double up."

Hermione blushed. "Well, they're both such fascinating programs."

Harry grinned. "Someday, Granger, instead of sending kids to school, they'll just unload your knowledge into a pensieve and then throw the students right on in."

Sirius guffawed from the frame he was in, earning a fierce glare from Hermione.

"Well, if that's settled, then we'd better get moving," said Ginny. "We're supposed to be out of the dorms one way or another by lunch. And we wouldn't want to upset the house elves."

"Sure," said Harry. "I've already got most of my things in my trunk for the elves to move. So, Ginny, if you're packed, do you, ahh, want to help me get my other things to my new quarters?"

"I'll help," offered Ron.

"Oh, erm, sure, Ron."

"Ron!" scolded Hermione. "He doesn't really need help. He was trying to get off with Ginny for a good-bye."

Ron grinned. "I know that. As brother and best friend, it's my job to be an obstruction. Besides, I want to see what kind of digs he'll have next year."

"Oh, alright, we'll all go - just don't be surprised if one of the doors gets 'stuck' for a while," said Harry. "Besides, I really could use a hand – I have several things I want to see to personally, and I didn't want anyone else but me to handle Sirius's portrait, even the house elves."

"Thanks, Harry," said Sirius. "That means a lot to me."

"Oh, Harry," said Ginny, with a start. "Erm … is he going to be – there … all the time?"

"I like that!" said Ron brightly. "Sirius! You are now an adoptive big brother. I'll expect reports."

"Ha! Nothing doing, Weasley," said Sirius. "I'll be out of sight when Harry needs me gone. I'm taking no chances on being consigned to a wardrobe."

"That really won't be necessary, Sirius. I have an office adjoining my residential suite. You'll be there. I'm past being comforted having you hanging over my bed."

"I'm sure it would be quite the contrary at this point," said Sirius with a smirk.

"Well, if we all have our plans set, let's get going," said Hermione.


	2. Helping Hands

Chapter 2 Helping Hands

With the aid of magic and the girls' dorm tower slide, it didn't take long for them all to get each other's things down to the common room. Then they all helped Harry move to his quarters, which were only a floor above the Room of Requirement, and a few corridors away. The front room was a pleasant office without windows. Through the back was a residential suite, with a bedroom as spacious as what he had shared for seven years, a sitting room with couches and squashy armchairs, similar to those in the Gryffindor common room but in better condition, and a large, rather luxurious bathroom. All the rooms had large fireplaces. The walls were covered with tapestries with famous historical quidditch games being played out on them. Lighting was provided either by large torches set in brackets along the walls or by candles or lanterns. The residential rooms all had several tall but narrow windows, with ledges deep enough to sit in. The windows had thick glass, but could be opened. The parlor also had a balcony looking over the lake and much of the forest, with a door that could be secured against the weather.

Ron and Hermione looked around the room with curiosity, never having seen a teacher's residence at the castle before, but Ginny had an especial look of interest on her face. "Nice, very nice – I could feel very much at home here." Ron glared at her, but before he could start up, Hermione interrupted.

"Do you think all the teachers have apartments like this, Harry?"

"I dunno. I imagine there's a certain amount of adjustment for the individual teacher. You've got to figure Flitwick would have smaller furniture and stuff. I'm sure Firenze has a magical forest in the castle. McGonagall would probably fit in a place like this, but I can't imagine Snape with a place so well-lit and with windows and a balcony."

"Yes," agreed Hermione. "Let us know if you see any others while you're here, if it won't be betraying confidences. It's interesting to know what makes a person feel at home.

Last to be moved was the portrait of Sirius. Harry wanted to carry that himself. He carefully wrapped it in the old sheet he hung over it at night and they all set off. The others went on ahead of Harry holding the doors. Just as Harry came through an arch in front of a set of stairs, Peeves the Poltergeist put his hand up through the floor and grabbed the trailing edge of the sheet. Harry was jerked back and nearly dropped the portrait. With the knack for timing which the staircases so often displayed, the set of stairs Harry had been just about to step onto shifted, carrying Ginny, Ron and Hermione with it.

As he worked to wrest the corner of the sheet from Peeves' grasp, Harry did not notice that the movement of the staircase had suddenly rendered him perched on the edge of a multistory precipice. He heard the other's calls but in his frustration with Peeves, Harry thought they were just encouraging him, rather than warning him. Suddenly there was a great whistling sound, and seemingly out of nowhere, a large medieval halberd swished inches past Harry's head, cutting off the corner of the sheet that Peeves had grabbed. Then as Harry started to fall backwards, still unaware of just how far the fall would be, the halberd swept around and used its handle to set Harry back on his feet. Finally with a friendly wave of its blade – at least somehow it seemed friendly to Harry, as if a vicious medieval war ax could be amiable – it used its spear point to stab Peeves's hand, which was still holding the sheet corner, causing him to curse loudly, and then flew off again.

"Merlin's wand! What was that?" said Harry.

Ron and Ginny shrugged, but Hermione looked thrilled beyond words as she exclaimed, "I've finally seen it – now my Hogwarts career is truly complete!"

"Seen it? – you knew about that thing?' asked Ginny with amazement.

"Of course, haven't you ever read …"

"_Hogwarts: A History_," intoned the others, imitating Hermione's exasperation with those who had not read, much less memorized, that vast volume.

"I'll take that as a 'no'," replied Hermione curtly. Then she resumed her excitement, "I had read about it, but I didn't think I would ever see it!"

"Okay, Granger, you want to tell me what came so close to cutting my head off," said Harry.

"Oh, it wouldn't _hurt _you, Harry. It only helps: it's the Random Axe of Kindness."

"The … what?"

"The Random Axe of Kindness!" bubbled Hermione. "Helga Hufflepuff bewitched it after it had been used in an attack on Salazar Slytherin by a muggle soldier who came upon him talking to snakes. Slytherin had been caught by surprise, but Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw had seen the soldier nosing around, so when he started to attack, they disarmed him."

"Ah, so they took the halberd away from him – didn't he have another weapon?" asked Ginny.

"No, you misunderstood me – they literally dis_armed_ him – both arms taken off, right at the shoulder. Most forms of magic, especially defensive spells, were not nearly as developed as we have today. They were really quite crude, in fact. The man died, bled to death still cursing at them. This was in central England, in Mercia, before the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms had been united. That was what convinced them to build Hogwarts far from hostile prying muggle eyes. Gryffindor and Slytherin worked on the defensive charms of the castle, while Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff worked on the disillusionment charms and other spells that keep muggles away from Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, and allow them to see only bleak ruins even if somehow they do get in the vicinity."

"Okay, so what's the deal with the axe?" asked Ron.

"Ah, they wanted a memorial of the founding event of Hogwarts. Slytherin wanted to bewitch the ax to cut the head off any muggle that came within two day's march, but the others felt the other protections would be enough. They felt that making it aggressive would not be a proper symbol for the school. They also didn't like Slytherin's definition of muggle - 'not of wizard and witch born' - since that would include muggleborns and even first-generation half-bloods."

"He was a real sweetheart, wasn't he?" said Ron.

"I know it sounds awful, but he came by the bitterness fairly – his entire family was wiped out in a sneak attack by muggles being led by a muggleborn who thought his powers, which included seeing through the Slytherin family enchantments, were a divine gift to enable him to wipe out the evils of witchcraft. So Helga Hufflepuff said that they needed to rise beyond the resentments and anger of the attacks and suggested that the halberd be bewitched to go contrary to its muggle purpose to do kindness. That was agreed to by a 3-1 vote."

"Gee, I wonder how that vote split?" asked Harry sarcastically. By now the staircase had begun to shift again, and he was able to rejoin the others, still carrying the portrait, which was no longer covered by the sheet. "So why haven't we seen it before?"

"Well, as I told you, many forms of magic were relatively crude at the time. It seems to hide away most of the time, and then appear on rare occasions when someone needs something cut or stabbed, then it disappears again. It's one of the few objects that can affect Peeves, and it seems to take special delight in thwarting and punishing him."

Ron nodded appreciatively. "This place could use about 20 of those to control Peeves."

"I'm glad to have heard all that," said Sirius's portrait.

"Why, Sirius? Did you have a run-in with the Random Axe of Kindness?" asked Harry.

"I did indeed. You know the cloister in the castle walls nearest to the Whomping Willow? We Marauders used to stop in there when we were returning from Hogsmeade via the passage under the willow if we needed to relieve ourselves and couldn't make it into the castle."

"Butterbeer will do that," observed Ron, grinning.

"Especially if you have more than a couple," agreed Sirius. "Well, Severus had spied us doing that, so he decided it would be fun to cultivate a Devil's Snare in the crevice that runs about three feet high around that portion of the walls. Very early one morning after the full moon had passed, we were returning and had to make our accustomed stop. Truth be told, we usually stopped there even if we could have made it to the castle – just a little coda to cap off each adventure."

"Yes," said Ginny dryly. "Having so many brothers I've noticed that boys seem to think peeing outdoors is some sort of an accomplishment, a celebration of manhood."

Ron and Harry both looked every which way but at the girls, both working hard to suppress Cheshire Cat grins. Neither Ginny nor Hermione could stop themselves from laughing at the boys' reaction.

Sirius joined in the laughter and cautioned them. "Girls, if that is the worst that those two do to celebrate their manhood, you should consider yourselves blessed. Trust me – we men often do foolish things in the quest to prove what we are."

"Fools?" asked Hermione.

Ron and Harry put on looks of mock hurt and shock.

"From your viewpoint, it may seem that, but then, your definition of being fools is primarily 'not being women.' Well, we aren't women. Men feel the need to be somewhat untamed at times. Too much placid domesticity chafes us," said Sirius. Then his tone turned darker, "It was getting to me when I was confined to my parents' home."

"So, anyway, Sirius," said Ron, deliberately changing what he knew was a sore subject for both Harry and Sirius, "you were in the cloister watering the Devil's Snare."

"Ah, yes, so the Devil's Snare did what it does – it reached out and grabbed what was available. At first it was kind of amusing – yes, we should have known better, - but then it started to squeeze – I'm sure you know that is not someplace you want more than a gentle squeeze. Other tendrils had sprouted around our trousers – we weren't wearing robes because of our transformations - so we couldn't get to our pocket knives or wands. We tried our animagus transformations, but we were still in the same fix, so we changed back. Even Peter could not chew or wriggle free. Suddenly Remus cried out in pain, and all of a sudden that blessed freaky axe came from above, cut the tendrils from the plant and we were able to unwind them. We spent the next four days walking like we had terrible rashes on our privates. I'll never forget Severus's smug look when he saw us."

"I hope you got him back," said Harry.

"Oh, yeah, we did," said Sirius, with obvious relish. "But I'll tell you that another time. I think you'd find it too embarrassing if I told it in mixed company."

"That's not fair!" protested Ginny. "I need to know more ways to get revenge on boys!"

"Nothing doing," said Ron. "You're already dangerous enough!"

She grinned wickedly. "I'll get it out of him, eventually, Ronnie dear. Remember, I'll be back next year, and I think there's a good chance Harry will invite me to his place at least once or twice."

Ron glared at Harry, who shrugged and replied, "What would _you_ do?" Then he turned to Hermione, "So that thing is called the Random Axe of Kindness." She nodded, grinning again over having seen the legendary object. "You do know that's the stupidest thing I have ever heard of, don't you?"

She shrugged. "Maybe so, but there you have it."

Finally they made their way to Harry's office and got Sirius's portrait hung over the office fireplace. "Now no one can deny I'm well-hung!' said Sirius, erupting into his barking laughter. The others groaned.

Next Ron and Ginny were off. They realized it would be easier to just use the common room fireplace connection to the Floo Network to go to Grimmauld Place than to try to move everything far enough from the castle so they could apparate. They had never found the Floo Network as unpleasant as Harry did, perhaps because they had grown up with it, so they didn't mind.

Hermione and Harry helped take things and chatted a few minutes with Mrs. Weasley before returning to Hogwarts. Mr. Weasley was not available, as he was keeping very busy coordinating the arrangements for security and eventual trials for all the prisoners from the battle, as well as using the upheaval as an opportunity to secure better relations amongst all the magical beings of Britain. Mrs. Weasley told him he should come anytime he wanted. Harry said he thought he would be able to come on the weekend and promised to send an owl message when he had a better idea of when he could come. After Harry and Hermione returned to the school, Harry wrote a short note to Ginny and attached it to Pig's leg and sent him on to Grimmauld Place.

Finally Harry helped Hermione take her things out of the castle. They had considered using the Floo back to Grimmauld Place and then apparating from there, but Harry remembered the anti-apparation charms which had been placed on it. If they had to take things out of a building, they could do so as well at the school and avoid the Floo.

Hermione only needed a couple of trunks: one for her clothing and personal effects and one for books she had accumulated over the years. Harry was surprised she didn't have more, but Hermione said that she had resold most of her textbooks to other students or Flourish and Blotts. She had gotten more comprehensive reference books covering the material, so she did not need the texts. Hermione was to apparate to her room at her parents' house with the cases, but she needed Harry to take Crookshanks.

Hermione apparated first so Harry could guide off of her wand. Crookshanks purred in Harry's arms until Harry apparated to Hermione's room. Whether it was apparating itself or the sudden dislocation of being in a new place, but the process upset Crookshanks, who dug his claws into Harry's arms and chest, then scratched viciously attempting to remove himself as quickly as possibly to a hiding spot.

"Harry!" scolded Hermione, as Harry stood there with bleeding streaks on his arms and chest, "What did you do to Crookshanks?"

"What did _I_ do?" asked Harry incredulously. "I just apparated. Your cat's just raked half of my body."

Suddenly there was a rapping at the door. "Hermione?"

"Oh, hi, Mum. I guess Hogwarts got you back in one piece," said Hermione as she opened the door.

"Yes, dear. I … Eep! Hermione, is that you? What's happened to your hair?"

Harry laughed. "I had gotten used to her that way. I forgot it would be a surprise here."

"I, um, sort of lost a bet after you and Daddy left. Don't worry: it'll grow back in."

"Can you … do something?"

Hermione smiled. "No, Mum, I agreed fair and square. I don't take anything or cover it up."

Mrs. Granger peered closely at Hermione's face. "But you don't even have eyelashes or eyebrows," she said incredulously. "Couldn't you at least use an eyebrow pencil and false eyelashes?"

"I'll write a letter to Ginny, Mum, and ask her about it. Anyway you were saying about how Hogwarts got you and Dad back here."

"Oh, yes, I must say your magical transports take some getting used to. They gave us 'muggle' parents a ride in this enormous purple bus, which looked like a lot of fun at first, but got very old very quickly."

"I can imagine. You should try a broom, Mrs. Granger," offered Harry.

"Oh, Harry, no, thank you. I'll have something a bit more substantial between me and the ground. Now, Hermione, dear, you know the rules of the house about having boys in your room."

"Oh, but Mum, it's just … Harry."

Harry feigned offense. "Well, I like that!"

"Oh, Harry, you know what I mean. There's no more going on with us than between me and Crookshanks."

Harry grinned. "Not even that – if you petted me as much as you do Crookshanks, Ron would turn purple."

Mrs. Granger turned up a corner of her mouth at that. "Still, Hermione, it's not really a matter of trust. If it were, we wouldn't have let you go off to school."

"If you knew the half of it," said Harry under his breath, with a hand strategically in front of his mouth, getting kicked by Hermione in the process.

"It's a matter of proper appearances, dear," continued Mrs. Granger, "Just as when your father and I unwrap the fresh dental instruments in front of our patients rather than in the lab, so that they know everything is sterile. Nice girls don't leave bad impressions."

"Yes, Mum," said Hermione. "Harry was only here to help me bring my things. It seemed better to apparate to my room than the front porch. The neighbors would take to that even less sanguinely."

"I'm just leaving anyway," said Harry.

"Not before we clean those scratches," said Mrs. Granger. "I take it Crookshanks doesn't care for magical transports either."

"Well, he's never been apparated, Mum. It came as a surprise."

"You've mentioned this apparating before – what's it like?"

Harry apparated right behind her and said, "It's great!"

Mrs. Granger jumped. "How did you do that?"

"Erm, magic."

"Well, I know that, but how does it work?"

"I just think intensely about where I want to be, …"

"It's not quite that, though, Harry," said Hermione, as she apparated right next to him, "you have to believe you are there."

"Yeah, that's more to the point."

Mrs. Granger tilted her head at them. "But how can you believe you are there when you know you're not?"

"Mum, I guess the best way to explain it is to say that if you know it will be so if you believe it is so, then you can believe it is so, because you know it will be."

"Well, that clears it all up," said Mrs. Granger, smiling and rolling her eyes. "Well, come to the bathroom, Harry. Looks like you need to pull off your shirt for us to get at them all."

Mrs. Granger cleaned up all the scratches with antiseptic and checked that none of them were deep enough to require dressings. Every time she would dab an open cut with antiseptic, Harry would twitch and wince.

Mrs. Granger smiled at him. "What's the matter, Harry, can't take a little pain? I need to do this, you know."

"I'm alright, Mrs. Granger. I reckon I'm still just a little jumpy from the battle."

When she was done, Harry thanked her, gave Hermione a hug and a promise to owl her about plans for the summer and disapparated back to Hogwarts' grounds.


	3. Settling In

Chapter 3 Settling In

Harry apparated to the edge of the Forbidden Forest somewhat north of the lake. "What now?" he thought, as he looked around the grounds. He could see that many of the house elves were working with Professors Sprout, Flitwick, and Firenze to replant the parts of the forest which had been damaged in the battle. He wondered if he should offer to help, as he had caused a substantial portion of that damage himself. He made his way over.

"Greetings, Professors," he called, waving to them, and also nodding acknowledgement to the house elves who were hurrying back and forth with potted plants, various sorts of manure, and levitated cisterns of water.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," greeted Professor Sprout, "Returning to the scene of the crime, I see."

Harry was abashed. "I'm really sorry about how much of the woods I damaged. I just had to …"

He was interrupted by a gale of laughter from both professors Flitwick and Sprout. Even Firenze had what passed for a smile among centaurs.

"Mr. Potter, you were in a battle," reassured Flitwick. "If you had started the conflict, blame would be yours, but you were only ending it. Relax."

"Well, then, I'll invite you to call me 'Harry' now since I'm no longer a student."

"Splendid, Harry. You may call me 'Filius,' unless you have come to like my goblin name too much."

"And feel free to call me Pomona," added Professor Sprout, who had looked oddly at Flitwick when he mentioned having a goblin name.

"You all seem in quite the good mood," observed Harry.

"It's good to be outdoors on such a splendid day doing something vigorous and useful," said Flitwick.

"Yes, absolutely," said Sprout. "And it's marvelous for me to get some variety from the exotic and magical plants I usually work with in the greenhouses. I fell in love with plants as a young girl taking long walks with my parents in woods much like these. I like all plants, but even a non-magical forest has a magic all its own."

Firenze nodded. "That is a heartening statement for a centaur to hear from a human. More of your kind should discover the magic of natural places."

Harry agreed it was a good idea. "I'd like to do that, Firenze. I never have had the chance before. And by the way, you sound as merry as a centaur can get."

"Not too loudly, Mr. Potter," he replied. "The forest has ears: a centaur is not supposed to be, as you say, merry. But you are not off the mark - the resolution of the war is as positive as could reasonably be hoped for. And working to restore the forest with those who respect a forest for itself is a good experience."

Professor Sprout took off her gloves and wiped her forehead with a large colorful handkerchief. "The elves can do all the carrying and lifting. Firenze remembers what every inch of the forest was like up until two and a half years ago, so he can tell us what should be planted and where. I get things planted and Filius is charming them to rapid growth."

"But not too rapid," qualified Flitwick. "Until Firenze explained it, I had not fully appreciated how every plant in a forest affects all the others by the way each vies for resources – water, soil, sunlight, pollinators. It's very much like a family or community – they all shape each other as they grow and live."

"Yes," said Sprout with a nod, "so we're seeking a healthy compromise. Some of the plants are charmed to grow to maturity over the course of the summer, affecting each other as they grow. Others will be charmed to grow less fast, so there will be juveniles as in an untouched forest, and still others will be planted with no charms, only fertilizer."

"A few areas will be left damaged," added Firenze, "since the occasional sites of damage within a forest are not only normal, but a healthy part of the process of renewal. There are plants that thrive when the sunlight can penetrate past the trees' top layers, and such plants are important to the creatures of the forest."

"Yes," agreed Sprout, "we will only restore the areas of greatest devastation by our plantings – the forest itself is the best healer of most of its damage."

"Some of the new plantings will not survive the winter," said Firenze, "but there is no way to know which ones. This is just as it is in any forest."

Harry nodded. "Neville Longbottom once told us that trees grow and die, and others grow in the place where another has died, so that the forest is always changing, but always remains the same."

"Longbottom? Was he not in the forest with you and Hagrid the first time we met, nearly seven years ago?"

"Yes, Firenze, he was."

"I would not have thought that fat, timid young human would have developed such wisdom. He has grown."

Harry smiled. "Yes, he has. Well, do you need any help?"

"No, no," said Professor Flitwick, "we have quite a system at work here. You must need to get settled in, now that you're to be an instructor."

"Yes, move along, Potter," said Sprout with a grin. "You'd only be in the way here."

As Harry turned back toward the castle, he noticed smoke rising from Hagrid's chimney and, realizing that Hagrid would not much longer be at Hogwarts, decided to go there. Hagrid welcomed him warmly.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, Hagrid," said Harry.

"Course yer not," replied Hagrid. "Ah, you mean with me and Olympe. Naw, she's returned to Beauxbatons this morning. She'll get things in the works fer the wedding: it'll be held there. Of course, neither of us has any giant kin left to attend, but there are a few Hagrids out there and she's got some human kin out there as well. Of course, we both have school friends and members of the Order that we'll ask."

"Oh, good, Hagrid, for a second there, I thought I might not get an invite," Harry said with a grin.

Hagrid wagged a finger at him. "Now don't you go playing modest on me, Harry Potter. You know you're not just invited: I want you to be a part of the service, best man, if you would."

"Hagrid, I'm … really honored. Don't you have anyone else closer, though."

"Closer? Than you? Only Olympe. I considered asking Dumbledore for a couple o'minutes, but he's just, well, how do I say it? You've both done great things, and done wonderful things for me. But even though I'm so much older'n you, I feel like we're more friends, you'n me. I can't imagine teasin' him: I can't imagine _not_ teasin' you. I'm gonna miss you something awful when I move to France, Harry."

Hagrid looked like he would start blubbering at that and Harry reached out and squeezed Hagrid's forearm, as well as he could, to comfort him.

"We'll be visiting, Hagrid. I'll come to France, especially if I play quidditch, and you can visit, too."

"Oh, yeah, I know, but I see how it is when people move on with their lives. The visits get rarer and rarer until it's just a Christmas card with a note added that's been copied for the entire mailing list. It's just been such a special time for me since you came here."

"For me, too, Hagrid. I can't begin to tell you how wonderful it was when you came beating down the door on that island and gave me my Hogwarts letter. Even though there have been some horrors on the way, I wouldn't trade it all for anything. And you have always been one of the brightest parts of it all, a real rock and refuge for me."

Hagrid snatched Harry up and began hugging him and bawling loudly. Despite Harry's two years of vigorous exercise, he felt like he was being crushed until Hagrid put him down and turned away, rattling through his pots.

"Oh, where're my manners, Harry. I still haven't offered you a cuppa. I'll just have that for you in a few minutes."

"Oh, sure, Hagrid, that'll be fine."

Hagrid filled his kettle with water and pointed his wand at it. "Thermo!" he recited and when the spell hit the kettle, it erupted with steam. Unfortunately, Hagrid had the spout of the kettle aimed at his forearm, and it burned him. He dropped the kettle, swearing loudly. Then he held out his arm, which was already beginning to blister and peel, to Harry.

"Wouldja mind, Harry?"

Harry looked at it a second, and then up at Hagrid. Then he began to blow on Hagrid's burn to cool it.

"Naw, not that. How about healing it?" said Hagrid anxiously.

Harry looked sadly at him for several long seconds and finally said, "Sorry, Hagrid. No, I won't. I've had enough pain. This'll heal. Get some murtlap or a potion from Madam Pomfrey. I just don't want to take any more pain unless I really have to. I hope you understand."

Hagrid stared at him. "I never thought it would come to this: Harry Potter actually lettin' someone else take care of his own problem." Hagrid broke into a great wide grin. "I couldn't be happier that yeh said that, Harry. It's important you learn to say no. You're right – I can take care of this. Don't ever try to be everyone's solution. You just step in where yer really needed. Now, then, I've got some murtlap in that yellow jar on the top shelf there – how about you make the tea while I put some on."

"Oh, sure thing, I,…Hey, wait a second, Hagrid! Were you putting me to the test?"

Hagrid grinned. "I'd like to take credit fer the idea, but Dumbledore suggested it. We was both concerned you might overdo it with the healing thing and wear y'self out."

"I'm impressed you could scald yourself like that just for a test."

"What, this? Looks worse'n it feels. There's definite advantages to being part giant."

"So how many other times when we thought you had made mistakes were you carrying out a plot?"

Hagrid grinned broadly and winked. "I'll tell my secrets if you tell yours."

Harry grinned back, so Hagrid continued, "First thing I want to know is how you rescued Buckbeak."

"What! Me? How can you think I had anything to do with it?"

"Come off it, Harry. Both Buckbeak and Sirius disappeared from certain death the same night and it was when you three were out and about. It took me sobering up completely from my celebration to figure there was a connection, but I'm not that slow. Besides, Sirius spilled the beans to the Order about you and Hermione showing up with Bucky at Flitwick's office. Even if he hadn't, the first time I seen 'im after that was at his house with Buckbeak being an upstairs guest."

"Okay, Hagrid, I'll give you the whole story – but I expect a fair trade. There's a lot of things at other times that happened that I still don't understand."

"Fair enough, but afore I forget, speaking of that night and Sirius reminds me I've got somewhat that rightfully belongs to you. Back in the stable, I've kept Sirius's flying motorcycle. I've run it every so often to keep it in good shape. I know you like a broom, but the bike'll pass in muggle places a lot better'n a Firebolt. Well, so long as you aren't flying on it."

"Wow, Hagrid, that's … brilliant."

Harry and Hagrid talked and laughed about each other's secrets for over three hours over tea. Hagrid took him out to see the motorcycle and gave him a lesson in both flying it and riding it. As Harry had never learned to drive on muggle roads, he was glad to find that it had charms like the Knight Bus had to keep it from hitting people or things. Hagrid insisted Harry try to run into him, but every time the motorcycle jumped one way or another to avoid Hagrid. When Harry left he was feeling as contented as he could ever remember.

Back at the castle, Harry went to his new office and apartment and began unpacking and placing his things. The bed and bathroom were already prepared by a house elf, so it appeared he would not have to worry about linens and such, but he clearly needed to get many of the comfort and lifestyle items most people do without as a student in a dorm. First and foremost would be an appropriate selection of robes and muggle clothes: all in due time – he had enough for now and barely had an inclination of what would appeal to him or be appropriate in his new circumstances.

It didn't take long to place all his meager possessions. He kept his photo album handy: he wanted to have the picture of his parents and Sirius enlarged and framed for his wall. Then he sat behind his desk and nearly jumped a mile when he heard a voice behind him.

"Harry!" Sirius' portrait had said suddenly. "Oh, sorry, didn't mean to rattle you." He said the words, but was barely stifling his laughter.

Harry breathed deeply for several breaths and then said, "Oh, it's okay, Sirius. It's just that after we hung your portrait and above the mantle there, you weren't in it. I hadn't realized you were back. And it's very quiet in the castle."

"I knew you'd be gone a while, so I went and visited first with Remus and then with my great-great-great, erm – I lose count – my ancestor Phineas Nigellus. You know, he was a true Black in his purebred pride, but he never had that attitude of eliminating non-purebloods. Really, I don't think many of the family took it that far: they just believed in keeping to their kind."

"How about you – do you ever feel that way?"

"Well, of course I was raised to believe in pure breeding. No, it wasn't quite that - I was taught that muggles were ignorant, filthy, and loathesome, subhuman might describe it, and as for Muggleborns and halfbloods, they were supposed to be lesser sorcerers and the closer anyone was to muggle connections, the more they were tainted as well. The more I learned disgust for muggles and muggleborns, the more unthinkable being around them would be. In the end, though, I found I couldn't justify it on the facts. There are those who say that everyone's opinions are equally valid, but that's only so if you've checked your conclusions against the facts. Are muggles and muggleborns a different species? Obviously not. Are muggleborns and mixed bloods lesser wizards than purebloods? You and Hermione and Lily and so many others I've known prove otherwise. I was so very fortunate to have known your mother well enough to be shaken out of those unsupportable doctrines about bloodlines."

"If you had been sorted into Slytherin, you probably never would have known how talented a muggleborn could be."

"Right you are, Harry. Hmm, then I wouldn't have turned from the Black family ways and gotten killed fighting for the Order."

"No, you would have joined the Death Eaters and gotten killed fighting for them – or running like your brother."

Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "It seems we Blacks were running up against fate coming and going, eh? Still, knowing what I know, I'd rather die fighting as I did. Did I ever tell you how gracious your mother was? She was the sort that made you want to be the best person you could be, just because you'd hate to see disappoint me in her eyes – never disdain for the person, just disappointment in their choices."

"That's how I feel around Ginny." Harry smiled. "I wish I could have known my mother too. But at least I got to speak to her and my Dad and you across the divide."

"Does that give you some peace, Harry?" asked Sirius.

"Yes, very much so. We struggle to do what we can on this side. It was very comforting to see that there is something beyond this life which can be happy. I'm not sure how we would muddle through without that assurance."

"It seems bleak otherwise. Maybe that's what made Voldemort the way he was – willing to do anything to hold onto life and acting utterly without regard to what kind of existence one might face on the other side. As much as a portrait can be happy, I am, knowing that I'm happy over there with Lily and James."

"Someday, I'll join you all. But I'm not in any hurry, if you don't mind."

"You seem a bit at ends, Harry," observed Sirius.

"I don't know what to do. The only times here I've had nothing to do I at least had others to do nothing with. Everyone my age is gone now. I know – I'll go visit Remus and see how he's getting situated."

"Too late. Arthur arranged a holiday for two for Tonks for her extraordinary duties to the Ministry during the past few days, so she came and waylaid Moony. I was there when she showed up."

"Well, that's good, but it would take a while for him to pack: maybe he's still there."

Sirius howled with laughter. "Maybe later it'll take him time to pack, but right now he can't have five sets of clothes, and none of them are fit for holiday. His books and things are in boxes. You only cured him a couple of days ago – most of his clothes are werewolf-wrecked. Tonks dragged him off with nothing more than the clothes he was wearing and his wand, said she was going to take him to both muggle and wizard clothing shops and play dress-up with him half the trip. She was quite giddy about it – I know, hard to imagine Tonks giddy. She said that would be the perfect holiday for her. He didn't seem to mind the notion either: he had always bought the cheapest second-hand clothes he could find, both because he couldn't afford anything else and because they would just get torn up at the full moon."

"Maybe Remus should see about getting Gilderoy Lockhart's old robes. Lockhart doesn't need them, and it might satisfy Remus's taste for having something showier than he's had. I can see Remus in lilac robes, with silver trim, and a fuchsia hat, can't you?" They both howled at the image of their dear, but drab friend dressing so flamboyantly. "Well, good for them. They deserve a break as much as anyone. But now what?" said Harry.

"Dumbledore's in his office," said Sirius quietly. "While I was there, he mentioned that he'd like for you to be every bit as much a part of his life now as you have been."

"And who would know better about how to settle into my position as a staff member. Thanks Sirius," said Harry.


	4. A Kinder, Gentler Snape

Chapter 4 A Kinder, Gentler Snape

Harry pulled out the communicating mirror. "Professor Dumbledore?" he called into it.

"Ah, Harry," said Dumbledore in a few seconds, "still not comfortable with 'Albus' I guess."

Harry smiled. "Give me time. I still feel far more like a student than a peer."

"It's to be expected. And indeed I hope that I will be given the opportunity to teach you much that I have acquired over the years. And in the process I hope to learn from you as well."

"I'd like that, too, though I'm not sure what I can contribute."

"Ah, most anyone can surprise themselves if they only allow themselves to have an open and questing mind. You have insights that you yourself do not yet see."

"And is that the only purpose of working together?"

Dumbledore laughed gently. "No indeed, Harry. I told you before I cared about you more than as just a student, and by the way you were hurt by my ignoring you, I know the feeling is mutual. It is only those who love us who are content to spend time with us and see us happy. But I do not mind that you seek reassurance on this point. After all you will find that for the vast majority of people you ever deal with, their only interest is in what you can do for them. And you were rather used as a tool in the plot to draw out Voldemort."

"Yeah. I accepted it as part of the strategy, but it still is kind of rankling, I think especially because I thought I was the only one in control of himself but I turned out to be the only one who hadn't a clue. And after the battles, I got swept along with the celebration. I still feel like a bit of flotsam on a very stormy sea which is just starting to calm."

"An apt description. Alas, I'm afraid that the schedule I have drawn up for the next couple of weeks won't make you feel any more in control of yourself. You need to learn both instructional techniques and the magic needed to teach apparition and broom flying – there's more to the teaching than just being able to do it."

"Well, okay, I anticipated that."

"That will take the first week, and then we'll have other things that need doing. I want to show you all around Hogwarts, in a way few people ever get to. But please reassure yourself that I have no intent to merely put you to work. I am looking forward to having time that we could work on projects together without the press of Voldemort's threats. It would very much be a treat for me, and I think you will find it rewarding on several levels as well."

Harry nodded thoughtfully and then looked up again. "That makes me think. When you told me about the Mirror of Erised, you said that you saw yourself with a warm pair of socks. Is that really what you saw?"

"Well, I indeed had the warm pair of socks, but I was wearing them in front of a warm fireplace, and was chatting contentedly with people who are special to me. The gist of what I told you was correct – I do not need for much. I am old enough to find happiness in what I have rather than looking always for that which is out of reach."

"Right now, I don't know if I am content with what I have or merely lacking the experience and vision to know what I ought to be reaching for."

"It's to be expected, Harry. Your whole life for at least three years has been organized around surviving and then defeating Voldemort. You have accomplished everything you had set for yourself, and so you must start to ask, 'Now what?' That's one of the reasons that I have organized some attractive options. Without challenges and activities to give your life structure, you could easily fall into dissolution. You would certainly not be the first hero to fall apart after the fighting was over."

"That's about it. Even now, I am quite at ends. I don't know what to do, how to be a staff member, how to live and work here."

"You need to be shown the ropes, of course. Let's meet tomorrow morning and I'll go over many of those things, and we'll make some plans for the preparations you will need for next school year. For right now, you should know that you can use the Floo Network as a sort of intercom – I believe you know that muggle term – just by throwing a pinch of Floo Powder in a fireplace and calling for the person you wish to speak to. The library is available to you, and of course the Restricted Section is no longer restricted to you, not that it has been for some time now."

Harry grinned. "Maybe later. I've just spent the better part of three months in intensive and futile study in there."

Dumbledore laughed. "I knew you would understand once the plan was described to you. Knowing that, there were a few times I laughed until I cried at how hard you worked to figure out what kind of curse would make everyone in the school fight each other. And then I would cry until I laughed over how much you were suffering to find the solution."

"Well, I understand the strategy now, so I reckon I'll get over it."

"If you wish to go someplace, of course, you are free to and can apparate – when you are far enough from the school, - use the Floo Network, or fly. I made sure that your suite had a balcony so that you could use your broom whenever you chose to. As for meals, you can conjure things yourself, or the elves will prepare whatever you'd like – they have a talent for making things much tastier than you or I could make ourselves. We have staff meals every so often and staff members will often have meals together. Why don't you plan on having breakfast with me around 7:30 tomorrow morning and we'll talk over all sorts of things. My current password is brigadeiro – that's a Brazilian confection I have just recently learned about - marvelous. For dinner this evening, I believe Minerva was making arrangements. She should be calling you anytime now, so I'll say good-bye until tomorrow."

"Great, erm, Albus," Harry said the name awkwardly, "good-bye and thanks."

"Come in, Potter, or may I call you Harry now?"

Minerva McGonagall smiled and opened the door at Harry's knock. She was, after all, expecting him, as she had invited him for dinner in her office. Behind her, scowling in anger was Professor Snape. Harry would probably have been as displeased at seeing Snape as Snape obviously was at seeing Harry had not Harry asked Sirius to scout out McGonagall's office before he came around. Harry was seeing great advantages to having an overlooked friend like Sirius to spy about the castle for him, and Sirius was more than pleased to have something interesting – and especially sneaky – to do. He would also be listening in just outside of view.

Before Harry could respond, Snape rose from the table at which he sat. "I see you have company, Minerva," he said, oozing with annoyance. "I'll just be on my way."

Professor McGonagall stopped him with a hand placed gently on his shoulder. Harry was certain that there were few others for whom Snape would have stopped so meekly.

"Nonsense, Severus, you were invited and so was he. You are two of my favorite men in my life and I aim to see truce at the very least."

"Minerva, I can assure you I will be cordial," said Snape, in a tone that would have had Harry putting his hand near his wand if they were not in Professor McGonagall's presence.

"And I will, as well, show him all _due respect_, Professor McGonagall," added Harry.

"Hmm, I've heard more warmth in the crackling of yeti fur. I see I have my work cut out for me." She turned directly to Harry. "If you'd like, you may call me 'Minerva.'"

"Thank you, uh, Minerva. Forgive me if I slip at times. I've spent seven years thinking of you only as Professor McGonagall."

"That will be fine, of course, and in front of students, it would be preferable, as I shall call you Mr. Potter."

"But please feel free to call me 'Harry' in private."

She smiled. At least there was conversation. "I shall, with the occasional 'Potter' out of habit."

"I've been called worse," said Harry, with a grin.

She smiled back at him. "I am well aware. Even some of the well-meaning names must have been unwelcome. May I offer you both a pre-dinner drink?" she asked as she pulled a bottle and three tiny glasses from a shelf by her mantle. Harry saw Sirius peeping out from the edge of the painting over the shelves and then darting back, and was certain he saw McGonagall wink and suppress a smile.

"Erm, what is it?" asked Harry cautiously. Snape snorted scoffingly.

"I won't be giving you a potion, I can assure you, Harry. And Severus, Harry's been manipulated enough these past seven years: it is fair enough for him to be suspicious. Harry, it's simply a pomegranate liqueur I'm fond of."

"Oh, well, thank you, then," said Harry.

"Yes, I suppose I will as well," said Snape.

She poured the drinks and handed a glass to each.

"A toast," she said, raising her glass, "to colleagues and a mission well accomplished."

Harry and Snape kept their eyes firmly on McGonagall rather than each other as they agreed with the toast and touched their glasses to hers. Harry cautiously sipped at his drink, not knowing how he would react. It stung as it first touched his mouth, but as he held the sip of liquid, the burn went away and left a tingly, fruity sensation. He had sipped so little that he did not so much swallow as let it disappear in his mouth.

"Please sit," said McGonagall, "and tell me why you each have such animosity."

They sat and Snape glared at her, studiously avoiding any glance at Harry. "You know, Minerva, my feelings about James, and HE," Snape waved the back of his hand toward Harry, "is cut from the same cloth."

"Well-stated," said McGonagall. "And you, Harry?"

"When I came to Hogwarts, I was just thrilled to escape my muggle home. I was certainly not looking for an enemy, most of all in my professors."

"Enemy?" growled Snape. "After all the times I saved your life?"

"Now, Severus, calm down," said Minerva. "You've been a good soldier when it comes to fighting dark forces, but you'll have to admit that you have treated the students of my house, and Harry in particular, with a rather pointed harshness."

"I have enforced the rules, perhaps a bit more strictly in some instances than others. For all their bravery," Snape spat the word out, "Gryffindors have a rather mean streak when it comes to those not like them."

Harry started to protest, but McGonagall motioned to him. "Agreed," she said. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but she again gestured him quiet. "Harry, what you don't see is how cruel groups of students can be, especially in a boarding school environment, where the living group becomes your tribe. The cohesion of the tribe must be maintained by coordinated activities, which often take the form of afflicting those not in the tribe. It occurs in many other group environments as well, even without the residential arrangement. Generally when students leave the school those old bonds and wounds are forgotten," then she glared at Snape, "but some people never forget them."

"Minerva, you know I was treated more harshly then most."

"Partly because you gave as good as you got, and partly because you rejected your own housemates' company as well: as to some of them, that is to your credit. But Severus, this is not James. Look at him," she urged.

Snape glanced in Harry's direction, and then, when McGonagall cocked her head to say that wasn't good enough, he looked at Harry squarely. Harry looked back at him passively, not knowing what it was that McGonagall wanted him to see. In a few seconds, he turned away, and muttered, "Those eyes!"

Harry looked quizzically at McGonagall and she smiled back at him. "Severus," she continued gently, "tell him what you have told me. He needs to know more about his mother. He needs to hear it from those who were affected by her, and it would serve _you _well to say it – to him."

Snape sneered in a way that Harry had only seen previously when Neville had turned in a particularly inept potion, but then his face relaxed as he relented. "As you wish, Minerva, I can deny you nothing."

"Potter," Snape began in a low resigned tone, looking off out the small window, "through all the sessions of Occlumency training, it was more of an anguish to me than you'll ever know to stare into your eyes. At all other times, I could look at the rest of your appearance and see only your father. Seeing him when I saw you, it was only by a great effort that I continued to treat you as even-handedly as I did."

Harry started to protest, but McGonagall placed a hand gently on his arm and very subtly shook her head to stop him, and gave him an understanding wink.

"But for the Occlumency lessons, as you know," Snape shifted his gaze toward the fireplace, and its gentle flames, "I had to peer into your eyes and see nothing but them. They are very much your mother's eyes."

"So I have been told many times, Professor."

Snape glanced sidelong at him and then turned back to the flicker of the fire. "Yes. Unmistakably so. And as we have seen these past few days, the resemblance is more than just the color. She could look past the facades we all erect to each other and reach into the person – and give succor to that which is healthy within." The next words came as if wrenched out of him, "An ability you have shown these past few days, years perhaps. Of course, I had already confirmed this to the Headmaster, for I recognized it the times your mind reached within mine."

Snape groaned. "How I loathed having you reach into my mind, most of all because even with all the animosity I knew you felt for me somehow you looked into me without contempt, or condemnation, or rejection, but instead, as your mother would have, with understanding and sympathy, leaving me with a feeling of relief from the monsters of my past. To receive that from the son of James Potter was torture."

Harry felt he must respond. "I apologize if I gave you unwanted relief. I can assure you I had no desire to make any part of your life better."

Snape seemed almost to smile. "No, I'm certain of that, at least on the surface, but down deep you are Lily's boy, and such sympathy was central to her being. Now, as you have no doubt gathered from what you have seen in me, and from your talks with your father's friends, I was a rather unsociable, malevolent, morose and cynical youth. Not nearly the pleasant, amiable chap I am today." Harry started to speak but Snape held up a hand to stop him and went on. "I know you do not perceive me that way, Potter, but all things are relative. I used to be _much_ more unpleasant."

McGonagall stifled a smile and said, "I'll vouch for that, Severus. The staff were so offended by you they used to hold contests to devise suitably horrid detentions for you."

"You… got detentions?" asked Harry.

"Of course I did! You don't think I'd let your father's band get away with their antics unanswered, do you? Perhaps muggles have to just take such treatment at the hands of a stronger group, but wizards have all manner of tools available." Snape's eyes sparkled with malevolent glee as he remembered the dark magic he had employed against his rivals and tormentors. "They had the admiration and the friendships, but they were not going to get away with everything they did unanswered."

McGonagall added, "As a loner, Severus was quite the easy target for several groups, especially your father and his friends. I think they recognized in him the power and determination that you no doubt can see in him, and particularly resented him for his darkness – which, I might add, he brought with him on his own."

"Not entirely on my own, Minerva," Snape corrected.

"No, you're right, Severus. Both your mother and stepfather filled you with much of it, didn't they?" She sighed. "In the long run, it probably served Severus's opponents well, as they were prepared to deal with dark magic when they went into the world. Your parents, Harry, were able to thwart and escape Voldemort several times in no small part due to the techniques your father learned in his schoolday sparring with Severus."

Snape resumed his explanation. "Your mother, though, was another matter. Of course, she was popular, too, but she always resisted the urgings to join in having fun at others' expense. She did it quite effortlessly as well. Often those who refuse to join a group's bullying are rejected and made the subject of abuse as well. Your mother avoided that, somehow. Perhaps it was her complete lack of guile or animosity, maybe it was her special magic. Even when she was angry or putting a stop to something horrid someone was doing, she never did so with anything aught but kindness. I still cannot comprehend that.

"She reached out, as well, to bring all of the outcasts into the mainstream. Lupin kept very much to himself at first – not the same way that I did, but he was very secretive and silent. Of course, we all know why. Lily saw the kind soul within him – even I can acknowledge that much about him, though I still resent him for the company he kept – and talked with him, eventually drawing him out and allowing him to be an active part of the school and Gryffindor House. Except, of course, when there was a full moon.

"She noticed me, as well. Unlike … others, however, she was not looking for a victim but someone to be kind to. I was more resistant to her than Lupin, more fool me. I didn't want to let anyone get past my shell, especially not some Gryffindor mu-, erm, muggleborn."

Harry had a feeling he knew exactly what word Snape had started to say as his voice had risen at the end. Snape took the last sip of his liqueur and McGonagall took his glass to the mantle and poured him a bit more. He composed himself again.

"Nonetheless she persisted. She would speak kindly to me whenever she could. She helped me when things had happened, whether they were my own errors or things done to me. Even when fellow Slytherins would not lend a hand, Lily was there. Even when I raved against my tormenters, or blamed the world for my situation, as adolescents so readily do, Lily was there – pleasant, kind, understanding. I often wondered if she was mentally deficient, as I assumed all muggles and muggleborns must be."

Harry started to get red in the face, but Snape continued, "Calm yourself, Potter. I learned it was not so. In fact, by the end of fourth year, I had seen much of the world in a new light. I didn't know at the time the effect that Lily – and you – had on people, bringing out their best, but I see now how it was working on me. But in fifth year I was quite single-minded in preparing for OWLs. I allowed myself no opportunity for any socializing. Every spare moment was spent studying or practicing. Seeing that I was constructively occupied and generally avoiding your father and his friends, Lily turned her attentions to others in need. I would have liked to have spent time talking with her – she was as soothing as murtlap on a wound – but I would allow no such dalliance. I was determined to excel on my OWLs."

Harry remembered his own use of murtlap when his hand was so damaged by Professor Umbridge's quill. Involuntarily he rubbed the back of his right hand, remembering the pain, as well as the relief of the murtlap. He well understood Snape's comparison.

Snape was shaking his head sadly. "I grabbed for the proverbial brass ring and missed what really was important."


	5. Facing Memories

Chapter 5 Facing Memories

Upon hearing Professor Snape's regrets at not spending more time as a student with Harry's mother, a notion occurred to Harry that knotted his stomach with revulsion.

"Did you … love her?"

"No!" Snape snapped viciously.

McGonagall smiled. "As you can tell from the vehemence of his response, the answer is yes, Harry."

Snape glared like an angry, cornered beast, and then put down his emotions. "I'm not sure. I felt strongly for her, but I hated myself for such feelings toward a … muggleborn. I think anyone who had a chance to know her could have loved her – if he could allow himself to. I could never have brought … one of that kind home. We purebloods are not supposed to mix with that kind, so I had always been taught: perhaps to dally with, but never for any sort of commitment. Truth be told, I don't think most purebloods are allowed the luxury of affection for anything but their genealogies. Now, by the end of my fifth year, I was thinking quite longingly of spending time with her, but then there was that unfortunate incident involving Potter in which I snapped at Lily when she tried to help."

Harry felt very warm around the collar at knowing precisely the scene Snape meant.

"Of course, it was just the heat of the moment, brought on by my anger with Potter, but the damage was done. I was not accustomed to apologizing to anyone, but after I cooled down, I was ready to do so to Lily, if I could only find an opportunity to speak privately to her. I thought I might get that chance at the last quidditch match, but Potter got himself badly injured, and she had to use her life-saving magic to keep him alive. From then on they became closer and closer, and I never again had a chance to speak with her like we had in earlier years."

"Is that why you have such an intense hate for my father?"

"I'm sure I would have animosity for him anyway, as I do for Black and Lupin and Pettigrew, but your father stole her away. Oh, no trickery or force, I am not accusing. But if you are ever fortunate enough to meet a woman like that, Potter, but she goes to someone else, you will know how deep bitterness can run. And then he led her into defiance of the Dark Lord, and that was too much for me. A sparkling gem such as that should be guarded, not placed in harms' way. So I joined the Death Eaters, hoping that I would be the one to be able to kill Potter. Alas, my skills were more needed as a potion brewer and I did not have my chance. Then there was word of a Prophecy, which the Dark Lord only had part of, and he looked for the birth of sons among his enemies. When you and Longbottom were born, he determined to kill both families. I tried ever so carefully to present reasons not to kill Lily, but he would take no chances. When Pettigrew turned on your parents and I knew what would happen to her, I could remain no longer. I came to Dumbledore, pledged my loyalty and told him all I knew. I let him look into my mind with no use of Occlumency and he could see that I could not support someone who could bring harm to Lily. That is why he knew he could trust me. From that day I was the Dark Lord's most implacable enemy. Dumbledore tried to prevent the attack at Godrics' Hollow but he was too late."

"It all makes sense now," said Harry, "except … wait, now I understand something else. The memory you put in the pensieve – and I am very sorry I invaded that, I truly am – at first I thought you hid that because of how you had been embarrassed, but that wasn't it: you had other embarrassments, a few of which I saw. And then I thought it was because you were hiding how my father had gotten the best of you – but there were other times for that as well: you didn't hide those. I asked you this before but now I know - you were hiding how you had reacted to my mother, weren't you?"

Snape closed his eyes sadly and nodded. "I was still very conflicted over her being muggleborn. I was also angry with that whole Gryffindor gang of bullies, and more than a little anxious from the OWLs. When your mother stepped in to protect me, to save me, it was more than I could handle and I called her … that word. I couldn't stand being protected either by a woman or especially by a muggleborn, particularly as it was so public. Reacting as I did was … rash, nay reprehensible. I hated myself immediately for it, not least of all because in the years to come I felt I had pushed her toward Potter."

"I can understand that, Professor," said Harry sympathetically. "In the rush of events, it's very easy to say regrettable things and take regrettable actions. I know I have done so and been hurt by others doing so. Do you still have trouble with muggleborns?"

"I try to look at people for their talents, but it can be very difficult to root out a lifetime's training. I was taught that muggles are the lowest form of filth, and the closer one is to muggles, the filthier one is. On the other hand, my natural father was a muggle, as my older cousins never tired of reminding me: he left my mother when I was a few months old, soon after he was introduced to my mother's side of the family."

"How did they treat him?"

"I wouldn't know, Potter, but I believe my family to always be courteous."

"Just as you have always been?" asked Harry pointedly. "An awful lot of cruelty can be dressed up in courtesy. How would they have reacted if you had brought home a muggle wife, or even a muggleborn?"

"Hmm. Well, of course, that was one of the considerations that kept me from admitting my feelings for Lily."

"Severus," said Professor McGonagall, "perhaps your father left because of how he was treated, perhaps even threatened, and then your mother's family used his fleeing as proof to her of the wisdom of rejecting muggles."

"But to flee in the face of threats, that's cowardly," he objected.

"And what sort of defense could he put up against a family of dark wizards?" asked Professor McGonagall gently. "For that matter, they might have wiped his memory of any recollection of her and you and sent him on his way. He may not have fled, but just gone about his life oblivious to what he had lost. Would doing that to your muggle father have been out of character for your mother's family?"

"As much as I would like to deny it, I cannot."

Harry nodded sympathetically. "Sirius has told me of being taught to think like that. So when I showed up here at Hogwarts with James's appearance, a muggleborn mother's eyes, and a thoroughly muggle upbringing, I must have seemed about as low as could be."

Snape's mouth twitched and then he said, "Certainly, and your great fame and adulation over something which not only did you not put any effort into but which also seemed to have been dependent on Lily's death just added to the cause for contempt."

"I understand that, Professor. You may not believe this, but I often tried to avoid all that 'Boy Who Lived' notoriety. It felt wrong to take credit for something I had no conscious part of. Even recently, I was uncomfortable with the attention put on me, but at least I could accept it was based on things in which I had taken an active role. Mostly the war was fought by others, but I had a hand in preparing them, so I was made the focal point."

"Harry Potter!" snapped Professor McGonagall. "You have gone beyond healthy modesty with that! The training you gave all your students was stellar and you took the hardest tasks yourself, even after bearing horrible stress over our strategy. You will not hide from your great accomplishments around me!"

"If I were around you only, I would have felt more comfortable doing so. I know what I have done, but I also know that every bit of it required all of those on our side. I could not have faced that army alone, others took that. I could not have continued to heal or survived the killing curse again without sharing the strength of my friends. I may have been key, but the victory is ours, not mine."

Snape peered at Harry through narrowed eyes. "I still can't say I'm fond of you, but I'll admit you've become a passable wizard."

Harry suppressed a smile – a passable wizard, indeed. Still, it was as high a compliment as he had ever heard from Snape, or was likely to.

"Well, then, now that we've cleared the air on a few things, shall we eat?" invited Professor McGonagall.

The dinner with Snape and McGonagall went relatively briskly. Despite a large number of issues having been aired, neither Harry nor Snape exactly warmed to each other. Harry brought up the subject of releasing the souls from the petrified dementors and Snape indicated that he had been in touch with Hagrid and the centaurs about locating all of the dementors in the Forbidden Forest.

"That's good," said Harry. "Is the location of Voldemort's island something you knew from years gone by, or will you need me to lead you there?"

"I'm afraid we will be taking a long broom ride together, Potter."

Harry stifled a laugh. "I hope you mean on separate brooms."

Snape's eyes widened in offense at the notion. McGonagall intervened: "It was just a joke, Severus. Harry, do you have any notion when you will be available for that."

"I believe the Headmaster said something about most of my time being scheduled this week, but I can check with him about next week."

"We should have finished with the dementors in the forest by then."

"We?"

"Yes, Harry," said Professor McGonagall. "As you can imagine the killing curse requires a rather negative emotional focus, even when being performed for a healthy purpose. I am accompanying Severus so that he has a fond friend with him to help bring him out of that negative bent of mind."

"I see. That's excellent. I know I needed people near me when I healed to draw strength from and to get away from the lingering sense of pain."

"Oh, must you relate everything to your own experiences," sneered Snape.

"Now, Severus, that's what is known as empathy," said McGonagall gently. "So the answer is yes, he must: that's how he understands others' situations. It's very much a part of being Lily's boy."

Snape sighed and shook his head. "Must you remind me?"

To move the conversation in a different direction, Harry said, "I take it then I should coordinate the trip to the island with you as well, Minerva."

She smiled. "See, Harry, it's not so hard to use my name. Yes, I believe I should go. Severus might be lifted from the negative focus by gazing into your eyes and thinking of your mother, but I am afraid both of you would find that - how shall I say it? - disquieting."

Harry laughed as Snape scowled darkly over the jest.

"Minerva, I liked you better when you displayed no sense of humor," Snape grumbled.

"I can only apologize, Severus. I display different parts of myself around different people – oops, that sounds naughty," Professor McGonagall added with a giggle. "I mean that being around different people brings out different characteristics. Now that we are at peace, and I don't have to be his teacher, Harry happens to bring out the playful schoolgirl in me. Hagrid has the same effect."

"Revolting!"

Harry snorted. "Just as Neville's boggart brought out the schoolgirl in _him_."

Harry and McGonagall exploded into laughter, while Snape shook his head and scowled.

Later that evening, Harry found Sirius waiting in the office.

"Well, what did you think?"

"Very interesting. She slipped him a potion, you know."

"Really, but she said she wasn't using one."

"No, she said she wasn't giving _you_ one."

"Veritaserum?"

"No, he would have detected that before he even sipped the liqueur. It was something much more subtle and hard to detect, just to ease his tightness, but I couldn't tell which one. I don't think he would have accepted food or drink from anyone else without testing it. I think she just wanted him to open up and let out some of the secrets he stores up."

"He seems to need it."

"He's right about Lily, though. She was everything he said. I hadn't known how much she had tried to help him. Of course, I ignored her as I did all muggleborns as much as I could until James's accident. It must have been particularly hard for Severus to accept attention from a muggleborn. I know I was pretty poor about it when Prongs first showed interest in her – not jealousy, but contempt."

"Some habits run deep, don't they?"

"Aye. You're lucky, Harry, to have been brought up as you were. You could see muggle as the norm and wizardry as something special. It was a gift and very precious to you, even though you were born with it. You value it for what you have and can accomplish, not as a substitute for accomplishment."

"I think I know what you mean. Having these powers doesn't define me. I'm a person separate from being a wizard."

"That's it. That's one of the things Lily helped James and me to see. Purebloods particularly tend to worship magic and in so doing to think of themselves as gods, or if you prefer, to see muggles as essentially animals. To see that we are people first, who happen to have this particular attribute, but not essentially any different from muggles, is hard."

"Muggles do the same thing, you know. If a person is uniquely talented, by being physically strong, or pretty, or smart, or in some other way talented, he or she gets treated ever so special, and can often come to think that he is special and superior to the 'common' run of mankind because of having that one quality superlatively. The talents are good, but we need to recognize that we are first and foremost human, all too human."

"I think Moony always understood that, because he had to deal with being a werewolf – a part of him, and yet separate."

"Perhaps our personal curses, not the magical kind necessarily, are often blessings. My harsh upbringing with the Dursleys made sure I never thought of myself as something special. Quite the contrary."

"To some extent, maybe, but people react differently. Many people would have been ruined by the upbringing you had. You can choose to deal with your burdens, or even your advantages, constructively, or you can just quit, failing to grow from what you are."

"Yeah. Plenty of people have started with everything and done nothing, and vice versa. Well, I think I'd better turn in. I've missed my morning run for several days now, so I'd better rest up so I can get back to good habits."

"Splendid idea. Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Sirius."

At breakfast the next morning, Professor Dumbledore presented Harry a fairly detailed schedule. He was given four days with Madame Pomfrey and Madame Hooch to learn and practice all the unsplinching, uncrunkling, memory modification, and spell reversing charms he had not already mastered.

"Memory modification, Professor?"

"Practice saying 'Albus' – it won't hurt you, you know," Dumbledore gently reminded Harry. "Yes, it is not unusual for student apparators to have accidents that bring part or all of the student to the attention of muggles. Of course, the sudden appearance is generally quite unexplainable, although in a remarkable number of instances, the muggles are entirely too wrapped up in their own lives to even notice the unattached torso of a teenager down the block. An instructor needs to be able to locate errant students, or parts thereof, retrieve them, and very gently smooth over the memories of any muggles who happened to have noticed."

Harry searched in the trove of memories and skills he had acquired from Voldemort. He found numerous ways to breach the protections wizards might place on the secrets in their own minds, but these included none of the skills needed to gently erase inconvenient memories without damaging the subject. "Well that makes sense, and I have a notion about how magic can interact with memories, although it will be good to learn less damaging means."

"Yes, what practitioners of dark magic consider subtlety is rather about getting the most effect out of their efforts, usually heedless of the damage done to their subjects. A good wizard who must for some reason affect another should seek the subtlety of doing so with minimal harm."

"I wonder if my healing power will allow me to modify memories particularly gently."

Dumbledore grinned proudly. "It is excellent that you care enough to think about that, Harry. What a lovely connection to draw. Both involve reaching inside the minds of others, so it is very possible that the inevitable damage done by memory charms can be healed as you go. That will be a matter for you to explore, since healing is your unique gift, but please keep me informed of your results as you work on it."

"I'm on my own in that regard?"

"You are the Apparation Instructor, not I. It is your responsibility to see that the job is done well. My only interests in the matter are a general interest in well-performed magic and a specific interest in your progress as a wizard. Now please take a gander at that schedule."


	6. Holiday Plans

Chapter 6 Holiday Plans

According to the schedule, Harry would have his weekend free. Then on June 30 he was scheduled at 8:00 a.m. to take the master exams at the Ministry to become a licensed Apparation Instructor. Unfortunately, there was no proper way to test unsplinching and uncrunkling without an actual witch or wizard as a subject, so the junior member of the Licensing Bureau had to deliberately splinch and crunkle himself or herself. The merciful aspect was that since there were only two private apparition schools in addition to the Hogwarts apparation program, a new instructor license had only been issued once in the previous twenty years, when Madam Hooch became an instructor. Harry wondered if he would know the poor wizard who would have to be the test subject.

For the following week after the licensing exam, the schedule included sessions every day with Dumbledore, except on Thursday. After Harry's return from Apparation Instructor examinations at the Ministry on Monday, the schedule called for two days of 'wandering – castle,' followed by a day of 'wandering – grounds + Hagrid.' Dumbledore explained that there were so many things to learn about the castle and the grounds that rather than trying to outline everything, it would be more productive and thorough to simply walk through all of Hogwarts – or as much as they came to - and talk about everything of note, whether magical, legends, or history, as well as showing Harry how to perform any magic required by various charmed objects or structures. Thursday was already set aside for flying to Voldemort's headquarters with Snape and McGonagall; there was a notation for Dobby to come along as well and to bring a picnic lunch for them all. On Friday, Dumbledore and Harry were to spend the day in Dumbledore's office showing Harry about all the magical objects there.

Harry noticed that the schedule seemed rather crowded toward the early part of summer. In fact, there was nothing after the first week of July. When asked, Dumbledore just shrugged it off with a suggestion that Harry might need a holiday. Then he changed the subject to Harry's duties as a resident school instructor regarding discipline and security.

They had just finished eating and were about to discuss the uses of the pensieve when a flurry of owls started arriving. They presented themselves to Harry rather than Dumbledore. Dumbledore stood aside, beaming.

"You know anything about this, Albus?" Harry said with a bemused suspicion.

"Ah, well, I may have an inkling, although I only have a direct role in one of them. Why don't you have a look?"

Dumbledore gave each of the owls a treat and sent them up to the owlery for a rest before Harry replied to the letters they had carried. Of course, each owl would know which message was intended for its owner when the time came.

"Well, let's see what we have here," said Harry. He opened letter after letter, saving out two in particular for last. All of those in the first group opened were from professional quidditch teams, asking Harry to try out. They were all for the first full week of July and were all in the same location, a small, uninhabitable island in the Irish Sea which, the letters explained, had been charmed to keep muggles off of it and to make any wizard or witch on a broom appear to be a sea bird to any muggle who sailed by. All the teams had a joint rookie camp there so they could more easily evaluate prospects and negotiate contracts.

Harry smiled. "How thick do you think I'd have to be to not to see through this?"

Dumbledore laughed. "Actually, Professor McGonagall takes care of informing the teams of quidditch-playing students of hers that are leaving the school. I'm not sure she is entirely altruistic in that – she loves getting complementary tickets for choice seats. I just made sure I had advance notice of the tryouts so that your sessions here would not cause you to miss tryouts or – anything else which might be coming up."

"Hmm – 'anything else'? Well, I suppose that will be explained in due time. So is there any reason to prefer or reject any particular team that has invited me?"

"Not that I know of, not beyond their historical performance and locations, and I know you have read up on that. They hold tryouts all together to best compare players, so you'll have a chance to talk with all of them that are interested in you. Then you can discuss the potential opportunities with all those who might be affected."

"Of course," said Harry. "Ron will certainly be getting tryout invitations as well. And Ginny, Hermione and our other friends would want to attend at least some of the games we would play in."

"Are you planning on being on the same team with Mr. Weasley?"

"We've discussed it. It's good to be with friends, but I'm sure the training for seekers is very different from that for the rest of the team."

"Perhaps. But you've never seen professional quidditch. At school and in the World Cup Tournament, the focus is entirely on winning as soon as possible, so the seeker is more focused on the snitch. Professional teams still want to win, but not too fast, so they don't rush catching the snitch. As Mr. Weasley showed you, the seeker can disrupt players in other parts of the game to affect scoring. Professionals do much more of that."

"Why would they do that?"

"Let's just say that it makes for a more exciting game to watch. I have my suspicions as to further reasons."

"Still, I enjoyed working on those plays rather than just snitch-seeking." Harry rubbed his chin as he thought how the game would be different with him participating in even more playmaking.

Dumbledore smiled as Harry thought through some of the possibilities. "Well, whether you choose to be on the same team as Mr. Weasley or not, my recommendation, Harry, would be to seize the opportunities which will give you the most joy. You've earned it, and, I might add, you will in the future. As I discovered long ago, when a person has once overcome great challenges, he is repeatedly called upon to do so."

"And you think I would accept such challenges?"

"Wouldn't you?"

Harry shrugged. "Probably. Almost certainly. I would really like to have a choice in the matter. Up until now, I haven't really had a chance to say no. Maybe I should more often be willing to let others take care of their own problems."

Dumbledore smiled. "That you should. It is easy to be overwhelmed. But I think there is a middle ground. I have long worked to anticipate and prevent crises. I have networks of friends and allies and I keep an eye on all sorts of developments. I will continue to do so for quite some time, but I would like to work with a protégé, a much younger person with the power and talent, and most especially the sense of right needed to take over gradually."

"You're asking me?"

"Can you think of anyone better?"

"Hermione is smarter, Ron is a better strategist, Luna sees a broader and unique perspective on all things, Ginny is very powerful and passionate, erm, … about, you know, protection and erm, doing the right things."

Dumbledore chuckled. "And I'm certain that's not the only way. What you say is true, and yet, you also know that all of these, and the rest of those you have trained are doggedly loyal to you and take direction from you. Even when they were deceiving you, they were being loyal to you and following a plan they knew you would embrace, if you had only had the opportunity. You will, as I have done, call on many people who have talents which in relevant regards exceed yours. Still, you inspire the loyalty and you have the courage and vision and tenacity."

"It's unnatural for me to acknowledge that, but I have to. I'm honored to be asked. I'd be a fool to refuse."

"And that is because …?"

"Well, of course, there is the immense amount I can learn from you, and I had better, since to me, it's not really an option to turn my back on people in need, so I'd do better to be engaged in keeping little problems from becoming big ones, than by hiding away and dealing with things only after disaster is impending."

"Excellent, Harry. I was hoping you would see the big picture."

Harry then picked up the next envelope: it had a return address marked Longbottom Manor. It was written by Neville's grandmother and was an invitation to a party to be held at Longbottom Manor July 30. It was said to be for, "in no particular order, the return of peace to the wizarding world, the return of Frank and Alice Longbottom to health, the celebration of all those who contributed to both of these, and the 18th birthday of our dear Neville." There was a postscript directed to Harry as well "Put on your thickest skin, dear Harry – we couldn't hold such a celebration without embarrassing you with accolades."

"She sounds quite giddy," observed Harry.

"She certainly has good cause. She has had a most difficult situation for some 15 years. All the burdens have been lifted. They still have to reestablish the relationships and working of family life, but at least they are now able to do so. I only hope that in her exuberance she is not pushing Frank and Alice into a public event too quickly."

"You mean because they aren't up-to-date on events?"

"Partly that, and partly because they have not maintained either the personal relationships or the behaviours necessary to such relationships in over fifteen years. You will be going, won't you?"

"There's no graceful way to avoid it, is there?"

"No, Harry. You'll just have to accept that there are plenty of people who are still not tired of singing your praises. The Longbottoms in particular may never tire of it."

Harry nodded. "Well, one can never have too many loyal friends, can one?"

Dumbledore tilted his head and winked. "I know I have been very grateful when loyalty to me has been displayed."

Then Harry turned to the last envelope. It was held shut by what appeared to be a brown wax seal in the shape of a frog. When Harry tried to pull it open, it woke and pulled back on the flap.

"Allow me," said Dumbledore, taking the envelope and holding it up to Fawkes, who immediately pecked the frog off the envelope and swallowed it. "Fawkes loves those." He handed the envelope back with a self-pleased smile.

Harry pulled the letter out of the envelope and read it. "Well, this could be a lot of fun. 'Dear Mr. Potter, as part of your agreement with the company, we are making arrangements for a promotional tour at our expense to promote the new Harry Potter Famous Wizard cards. The kickoff will be at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley, London on July 12. After that, there are appearances scheduled in Europe and Africa for two and a half weeks, then a two-day break we are told you will need, resuming with Asia and Australia for two weeks, and finally North and South America for ten days. Please see the detailed itinerary enclosed. We have tried to coordinate this with your other commitments as they have been related to us. We are also asking Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger to participate in the promotional tour. If you would care to bring a guest, please feel free. We have also taken the liberty of scheduling some entertainments and diversions in the various locales. Expenses will be taken care of. Please respond promptly so that reservations can be made and promotional appearances advertised."

"Hmm. This leaves me only about a week after the tour before school starts again. You've been busy planning my life, Professor."

"Not all of it, just arranging a few things this summer. You aren't accustomed yet to living a reasonably normal life. As for going on a working holiday, I've already said the whole wizarding world owes you far more than you can be paid. And this is what the muggles call a win-win situation. You have earned and need a proper holiday and the Chocolate Frog company benefits by your appearances. I also like the idea of you putting a human face to the legends which are even now being shaped about you around the globe. Trust me: you do not want to be perceived as larger than life, particularly at such a young age."

"I've already been The Boy Who Lived – I know what a burden that can be."

"But don't forget, it is also an opportunity. You will meet with many people and will be the symbol of what a wizard should be."

"So I have to play the hero?"

"Not the way that Gilderoy Lockhart did. We don't need poseurs. And don't try to impress with your power. Show your genuine self – that will be enough. It is your character more than anything else which carried you this far. Stick with your strengths. And in that regard, I would suggest that you invite Miss Weasley to accompany you – I have noticed that she has quite the ability to, as they say, take the micky out of you."

Harry laughed. "How very true. She sees right through me when I start to get too full of myself and brings me back to earth."

"That's an invaluable quality, I hope you know."

"Sort of: I've barely had a chance to reflect on such things."

"I indeed hope you will now have the opportunity to observe and think on the whole nature of life and living. In a way, your life has been fairly simple up until now – not easy, but simple: you could focus on nothing more than dealing with an enemy. Now all the complications of human life must be dealt with, and in that, we are often our own worst enemy."

"Okay, Albus, I'll keep that in mind. So will I be seeing you during the tour."

"If you use your mirror. Otherwise, I am afraid I remain rather busy."

"Really? I rather thought with the war over, you'd be able to take a break as well."

"Maybe someday, Harry, although I must say that as I have gotten older the need to take holidays has much decreased. I take my interludes as needed, but I have learned to accept, and even in most respects enjoy, my responsibilities."

"What parts don't you enjoy?"

"Sometimes I see people headed the wrong way and I cannot stop them."

"Like Fudge?"

"Mm – yes, that's an example."

"Others?"

"After Voldemort returned, and I had failed to tell you all you should have known, I could see the dangerous level of frustration and anger, but I could not at that time intervene without causing much bigger problems."

"That was a hard time for me."

"Of course, it was. I just hope you know it pained me greatly to see all the difficulties you dealt with – but it was also a great joy to see how well you coped with them."

"That was handling things well?"

"Given what you were dealing with, yes."

"As I look back, and see how it all played out, I sort of see what you are saying."

"That's it, Harry – look at the big picture."

"But I hope I never have to go through anything as horrid as that again."

"That's always the goal, isn't it? That is why we must keep focused on the big picture – no one should have to go through Harry Potter's journey."

"Still, I can't say I would trade it for anyone else's life."

"Excellent, Harry. You are the product of all your experiences and your heritage; as hard as it has been, it is best that you affirm what you are, and move forward without regrets."

"That's what forgiveness is all about – to see the mistakes for what they were, admit them, correct them to the extent possible, and move on."

Dumbledore smiled broadly.

Later, as Harry walked through the corridors, studying the itinerary for the tour, both appearances and recreations, he ran into Firenze.

"Hello, Firenze, how are you?"

"It is an interesting time to look for signs – so much is undetermined."

"Do any of them show you being able to return to the forest?"

"Perhaps – the herd appreciated the way your army fought and the respect shown for its ways. Your healing of Bane could not but be valued. Hagrid has been tireless helping the wounded and displaced creatures of the Forest: certainly the herd admires that, so he is already accepted as a friend again. Members of the herd were watching the replanting: they hate to see a centaur working with humans, but in a task like restoring the damaged portions of the forest, even my kind can understand a role for cooperation. They would not speak to me directly yet, but they did not run me off. It's a start."

"Wonderful. I hope that all intelligent creatures can now find a way to respect each other and find common ground."

Firenze smiled. "It does not take a soothsayer to know you mean that. I also believe the Ministry will be much better in that regard under its new leadership."

Harry smiled. "Well, time will tell."

"Spoken like a centaur," laughed Firenze, who in his years in the castle seemed to have acquired the very human trait of a sense of humour.

Then Firenze changed the subject to ask Harry about his plans. "So, Harry Potter: you have trained and led an army to destroy the Dark Forces; you have healed countless injured fighters, friend and foe alike; you have faced the Dark Lord and vanquished his wrath and power - What are you going to do now?"

Harry glanced down at his itinerary and began to laugh. "I'm going to Disneyland!"


	7. Dinner Plans

Chapter 7 Dinner Plans

Harry foresaw a problem with the promotional tour, though. Dumbledore was right – he needed Ginny to come along too. Two years previously, even perhaps the summer before, a long holiday with Ron and Hermione – assuming the worries of the war had been resolved – would have been splendid. However, now that Ron and Hermione were openly a couple, they would want to have much of the free time with each other only. Not that they wouldn't make time for him, but still they would need couple time and he was all for it. Even more importantly to Harry was that it just wouldn't seem like a holiday if he couldn't get Ginny to come along with him. He had no doubt that she would want to come too, although he would go through the formality of inviting her. But he couldn't be sure that Molly and Arthur Weasley would go along with it.

Harry thought through the steps. He ran up to the owlery after retrieving a couple of pieces of parchment, a quill and some owl treats from his office. Hedwig was already swooping down to him when he whistled to her. He might have been more comfortable writing the letter at his desk, but he hadn't seen Hedwig since the Battle of Hogwarts and wanted to spend the time with her. He checked her feathers and the magical talon he had conjured for her before giving her the owl treats.

"None the worse for eating Wormtail then? Excellent, Hedwig. You were brilliant in the battle." Hedwig replied with a hoot, perching with her magical talon and grasping the owl treat he handed her with the natural talon.

First, Harry wrote a couple of quick letters to Ron and Hermione not to say anything to anyone else so he could ask Ginny himself and so that they could coordinate a strategy for getting Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to agree to Ginny coming along. Ron and Hermione at least had contractual obligations with the Chocolate Frog Company obligating them to participate in promotion, so it would be hard for the Grangers or Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to say no as to them. But Ginny was another matter, and although she was coming of age in mid-summer, Harry felt it was best to have everyone agreeable to her coming along.

Then he wrote a letter to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley asking if he could visit on Friday and stay through to Monday morning, so he could go directly to his Monday morning Apparation Instructor test at the Ministry. He had a standing invitation, and he knew he would be welcomed even if he did not write first, but it seemed only decent to give a warning. The weekend would give him plenty of time to invite Ginny and talk with her and Ron about how to present the idea to their parents.

By the time Harry was done with the day's training sessions with Madam Hooch, Hedwig had returned from delivering messages first to the Weasleys and then to Hermione. Harry was showing Sirius's portrait the spells he had learned for magical reversal of apparition accidents when Hedwig arrived, carrying responses from the Weasleys and Hermione. Mrs. Weasley's short note said that they were still staying at Grimmauld Place (though it had been willed to Harry by Sirius, it had been used as the Minister of Magic's London home both for security and convenience ever since Arthur Weasley had become Acting Minister of Magic) and they would be delighted to have him around. Ginny had added a 'Yippee!' and Ron drew a 'thumb up' picture – at least that's what Harry thought it was supposed to be: it could have been a rude hand gesture instead, but Harry couldn't imagine why Ron would draw that or why Mrs. Weasley would send a letter with that drawn on it.

Hermione's response had said that she had been invited for the weekend as well and would arrive Friday afternoon at about 4 p.m. Harry would not be able to get there until 5 p.m.

"Well, Sirius, in the mood for a trip?"

"Where to?"

"Grimmauld Place."

"No, thanks. I'm glad it's being put to good use, and I'm sure Molly has done wonders, but I'll pass."

"Too many bad memories?"

"Yeah, that and Molly and I never really got along anyway."

"Oh, well, okay. So how do you think I should convince her to let Ginny go on an around-the-world promotional tour with Ron, Hermione and me?"

"Well, you could offer to take Molly as well," said Sirius mischievously.

"Ahh, yeah, I'll keep that in mind."

"What's the matter, Harry? I thought you liked Molly."

"I love her dearly, Sirius, like a mother. That's the problem. I want a holiday without motherly supervision."

"I don't know, Harry. I think I should get Phineas Nigellus to put a bug in Molly's ear to accompany you."

You're looking to be a present to Kreacher, aren't you?" said Harry with a wicked grin.

"Whoa, buddy, not fair. Alright, I'll stop teasing. I don't really have any good advice for you; after all, I never really could work around Molly either. Why don't you owl Ginny, Ron and Hermione, though, and invite them to dinner Friday night. That'll give you a chance to invite Ginny properly for the holiday and you can all plot together."

"Now you're talking, Sirius!" replied Harry, as he turned to his desk to get out some parchment.

"Maybe you'd better ask Fred and George, too. Nobody has more experience than they do working around Molly."

"They didn't always get away with it."

"Nobody does, but they do the best."

"Right you are," said Harry, sitting down to write and withdrawing a quill from the desk stand. "By the way, Sirius, what do you do in the hours when there are no living people to talk with?"

"Oh, well, that's another reason I'd rather stay put. Hogwarts is a fantastic place for a wizard portrait. Lots of places to explore, Sir Cadogan and I go on lots of quests – yeah, they're meaningless, but we have fun anyway, - there are lots of gaming groups, and a lot of portraits of women who as living women may have been unreceptive to romantic intentions because they were concerned about the potential problems realize that as portraits, all the negatives are gone."

"Portraits can, erm, get involved that way?"

"It's not completely the same as in life, but we do well enough," replied Sirius with a playful tone. "There's a cubist chick in Vector's office who is just amazing! You wouldn't believe the things she does! Do you want to watch sometime?"

Harry turned suddenly to look over his shoulder at him. "Erm, wouldn't that be kind of creepy?"

"Doesn't bother me. I'm a portrait – being looked at is my life, well, so to speak. There are plenty of other portraits who wouldn't mind, at least in a private office like this. Admit it – you're curious, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, of course, but, erm, maybe some other time."

"Okay, suit yourself. No big difference to me. Let me know if you get curious enough."

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind." And Harry knew that somehow, that notion would linger in his mind.

Harry had owled his invitation to dinner to all concerned the very evening Sirius had suggested it. He was through with his training sessions by 4:30 Friday afternoon, so he got a weekend bag packed, got cleaned up and changed into some of his best muggle street clothes. That really was not saying much, as he had not really taken the time to buy clothes yet. He had plenty of plain t-shirts, several overshirts, the jumpers Mrs. Weasley had made him, a few pairs of blue jeans, and some workout clothes. Realizing this, he decided for going to a wizard restaurant on Diagon Alley rather than a muggle restaurant. This allowed him to cover up with wizard robes, though even those were still too obviously school robes rather than the more stylish selections.

His first stop was Diagon Alley. He apparated to the space set aside in The Leaky Cauldron for orderly apparition.

"Mr. Potter!" called Tom, the owner, from behind the bar. A chorus of greetings sounded from the other patrons, with a smattering of applause and a few scraped chairs and hurried footsteps fading down corridors. "How about a butterbeer or something a mite stronger? On the house."

"Aah, you've twisted my arm, Tom. I suppose I have time for one, but only if you'll call me Harry."

Tom got a look of surprise and delight. He pulled a pint mug from the tap with just enough head to it. "That's very kind of you, Harry. Not many of my customers want the serving people to be so familiar."

"You've got a job to do and you do it excellently. I see no reason you shouldn't be treated equally, and I'd rather you call me Harry, than to impose the formality of me calling you 'Mr. …' erm, you know, Tom, I've never known your family name."

"Oh, it's 'Riddle', Harry," Tom replied. Harry jolted at that. Tom smiled, "I guess you've heard of my namesake. Surprised though, since he disappeared long before even your parents were born. But then, as I think on it, you two had some similarities – he was an orphan, too, raised by muggles, and he got an award when he put a stop to some dark doings with that Chamber of Secrets at the school. Is that how you come to know of him?"

"Something like that," said Harry darkly.

"He was the most charming fellow. Well, not the first time I met him, when he was still a boy, but Hogwarts agreed with him, and he was the pleasantest chap every time I met him after that. Truth be told, that's not always the case with Slytherin students, but then, there's some Gryffindors with a bit too much swagger as well. I haven't seen or heard of him since he quit Borgin and Burkes: it must be fifty year ago. Wonder what happened to him – I hope he didn't come to a bad end."

Harry had been debating whether he should say anything, but the glowing description of Voldemort's younger self turned the decision for him – pleasant people aren't always nice, and rough or brusque people should not be assumed to be bad. "You really don't know, do you, Tom?" asked Harry.

"Oh, it is something bad then, isn't it? Was he in the battle then?"

"He was the cause of the battle, Tom, he was Lord Voldemort."

The sudden gasping and nervous susurration told Harry that quite a few people in the bar had been listening in. He glanced around and even saw the telltale strings of extendable ears. He'd have to take that as a warning, that unless he had made precautions, all of his conversations would be of interest to various and sundry.

"But Tom was such a handsome young man, and You-Know-Who was so strange and snaky-looking."

"He went through a lot of magical processes in seeking immortality and power. Very few people recognized him afterwards, usually only by his magical aura."

"But he wasn't already a bad one when I knew him, was he?"

"He stopped the trouble with the Chamber of Secrets by stopping his own opening of it."

"Well, I'll be. You aren't pulling my leg, are you, Harry?" Tom asked, shaking his head dolefully. "Not really a joking matter, is it? Well, from what I've heard, nobody but Dumbledore would possibly know what's up better than you, so I guess I'll take your word for it. Still, it comes as quite a shock."

"Yeah, but it would be shocking no matter who Voldemort had started out as."

"Any other amazing revelations you can let me in on?"

"I'm sure, but I don't want to tell all my tales at once, then I'd come to be a bore whenever I stopped in," said Harry with a grin and a wink. He finished his mug and laid down a couple of sickles.

"I said that was on the house, Harry."

"I know, but I don't want to wear out my welcome. Besides, I need a favor. I'll be passing through again in a half hour or so; I have a quick errand in the Alley just now. I was hoping I could stow my grip here."

"Well, of course, hand it over. That's a service that comes with housing the portal to Diagon Alley. Just remember there's always a cold one and space available here for Harry Potter."

Harry smiled. "I will remember that, Tom. And it's good to know you mean it." And Harry did know that Tom meant it, as he had been getting better control of his legilemency and was now practicing employing it with a light touch to sound people out a bit. He was perfectly aware that not everyone would be as keen on him as they professed, just as when he was a second-year and overheard Lucius Malfoy warning Draco not to openly voice dislike for Harry.

Harry hurried through to the dustbins and tapped on the magical brick to open the portal to Diagon Alley. He remembered his first visit to Diagon Alley with Hagrid. It seemed like a lifetime ago, and in many ways it was. He slowed a bit before Quality Quidditch Supplies to see what the new models of brooms were. He still loved his Firebolt, most of all because it came from Sirius, but he was fully aware that if he became a professional seeker, he would probably be expected to get an even faster, more maneuverable broom. That could wait.

Harry quickly made his way to Eeylop's Owl Emporium. He surveyed the many messenger owls available. He looked around at the many stunning birds on display and then talked to Eeylop about the advantages and care of different species. Harry made a selection and was soon hurrying back to the Leaky Cauldron with a large bird cage with a cover over it. He recovered his case and accepted the butterbeer that was offered.

Harry apparated directly to an alley near Grimmauld Place. He preferred to walk the quarter mile around to the Black house – now _his_ house, though the Minister of Magic was using it for the time being, with Harry's blessing – than to use the Floo Network, especially while carrying an owl. Harry found himself getting reflective as he approached the front door, remembering the first time he came here, as well as the subsequent occasions. He realized that so many things had happened since Voldemort's return that he had not really had a chance to sort it all out. Even now the events of life seemed to be careering forward without a chance for Harry to assess them. He hoped that taking the promotional tour, besides giving him time to be with his best friends without the stress of actual or impending war, would give him the chance to gain some perspective.

Suddenly the door burst open and Ginny came rocketing out. Harry had to catch his breath at how beautiful she appeared. Part of that effect was four days absence from the girl he loved. However, something was also different about her appearance. But before he could even figure out what, she had thrown herself against him and pulled him into an enthusiastic kiss, which he had no reluctance to return.

As the kiss ended, Ginny kept her arms around him and looked up into his eyes. "Missed you," she said quietly.

"So I gathered," Harry replied. "I missed you, too."

"I guess you two are past the 'make him wait on date night' stage," Harry heard from a deep voice in the vicinity of the door. He looked up.

"Bill!" Harry called. "You're out of hospital! Entirely better?"

Bill grinned broadly. "Not until I've milked it for all the TLC I can get, but I'm getting around fine now. I only spent a couple of days at St. Mungo's after the party was over at Hogwarts." He held up a cane. "I'll only need this for a few more days."

"Excellent," said Harry.

"Well, if you'll excuse me," said Bill, "I still have some dressing to do for _my_ dinner date."

As Bill headed in, Harry looked quizzically at Ginny. "He and Fleur are taking Mum and Dad out to dinner. They're to meet Dad at the Ministry," she explained. Then she sighed. "I've barely seen Dad these 4 days. There are so many things for the Ministry to do – there are more prisoners from the war than Azkaban can hold, St. Mungo's is packed with injured from both sides and the enemy injured have to be guarded, there are property forfeitures, war trial preparations, all sorts of things. Dad's had to be in touch with the muggle Prime Minister to explain the things that spilled over to muggle attention and to make corrections. He's also seeing about getting advisors from the muggles to help with the legal procedures: he admires the way they've worked to protect people's rights even when they are accused of war crimes. He remembers the way the trials were conducted after the first war and your trial and wants to make sure that everyone has a fair chance to put on a defense based on facts and law."

"Well, I can see him as the right man for the job, but I really had hoped to be seeing more of him."

Ginny nodded. "Me, too. Life goes on and we make do."

Harry nodded. Harry picked up his bag with one hand and handed the owl cage to Ginny, so that he could hold her hand as they walked up the stairs into the house.

She lifted up the cage. "An owl, obviously, but it seems small for Hedwig."

"And she wouldn't need to be taken in a cage either. No it's a present for your parents, for your father getting the vote to be made the actual Minister of Magic. I remembered when I was getting ready I had promised to get a healthier owl than Errol for them once I had the chance."

"Can I look?"

"Nuh-uh. Your hand's occupied."

"Alright then, I'll wait." Then Ginny called as they came through the door, "Mum! Harry's here!"


	8. Family

Chapter 8 Family

Molly Weasley was heard padding out from a room on the second floor and then she appeared at the top of the stairs, barefoot and in a bra and slip, showing a quite substantial amount of her quite substantial bosom. "Oh, wonderful, Harry. So glad you've made it. I'll be down for hugs in a bit: I have to finish getting ready for dinner. Ginny, tell him about it, dear." Then she started padding back toward the room she had come from.

"Bill already told him. Erm, Mum?" called Ginny, stifling laughter.

Molly came to the rail and leaned over, which allowed even more of her bosom to slosh forward "Yes, Dear?"

"I don't think Harry's quite used to seeing a woman in a slip – he's turned red as a beet."

"Really? Harry?" Molly called.

Harry had gone a bit toward the kitchen so that he could not see up the stairwell. "Erm, yes, Mum."

"No, not around the corner, Harry. Come where I can see you."

Harry stepped toward the stairwell, but kept looking toward the kitchen door. "Yes, Mum."

"Harry, I want to speak to your face, not your hair." Harry started to look up toward her. "That's better, now look toward me. My face, Harry. Right then. When you asked Arthur and me if you could call us Mum and Dad, you wanted to be treated as family as much as possible, right?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Well, this is part of it. Especially in a large family, being shy is not actually a choice, and we don't think it's really healthy. We're living together and we have to work around each other, in all aspects of our lives."

"Yes, Mum. I've just never, erm, been exposed to, erm …"

"Let's just leave it at saying your muggle relatives were never so open about things, Harry. Do you think you'll be able to adjust?"

"Yes, Mum; it may take a bit, though."

"That's fine, dear. A relaxed family environment is new to you."

She started again to return to her room. Harry turned to look at Ginny, with a playful smile and said quietly, "Mmm - a 'relaxed family environment' – I could get used to that." Ginny started to grin at him.

Molly called out from the door of the room. "I _heard _that, Harry Potter! You and Ginny are dating, so don't think you won't be required to observe _those_ rules. That's the one way we won't be treating you just like any other of our sons. Understand?"

Both Harry and Ginny answered simultaneously, "Yes, Mum."

"Am I staying in the same room as before, Ginny?" said Harry, grabbing his bag.

"Mm-hm! Let's get you settled," she replied, taking his hand and leading him up the stairs.

"I hear 2 sets of footsteps coming up – let's keep doors open," called Molly. "That's one of the rules of the house for unmarried couples."

"Yes, Mum," they both answered in matched mock sarcasm.

"So is Hermione already here?" Harry asked Ginny.

"Yes, Ron's getting her settled in, too -" she replied, then calling over her shoulder toward her mother, "and yet the door to Hermione and my room seems to be closed!"

They had to flatten against the wall as Molly came charging down the hall to get to the third floor. They heard the door swing hard and bang against the bumper.

"Mum!" exclaimed Ron loudly.

"Same rule for my boys as for girls under my roof – when it's mixed company in a room, the door stays open enough to see in."

Harry couldn't resist. He called out, "Technically it's _my _roof!"

"Quiet you! You can evict us if you _choose_, but as long as my family is under a roof, I'll be setting the rules. Now, Ron, I can't control what you do elsewhere, and I'm sure the two of you had your opportunities for, well, we'll just say opportunities, at Hogwarts, …"

"Like you and Dad, Mum?"

"Now, see here, Ronald Weasley, that was a different age!"

"Yeah, Mum," Ron said very seriously. "We had to deal with a war."

That quieted Molly down. Then she said, through a constricted throat, "I know, dear. And you two, and those two down there, and all of you students behaved very responsibly and did brilliantly."

"Thank you for recognizing that, Mum. And by the way, while we found our opportunities to hug and comfort each other, which we needed because we were so scared and hated deceiving Harry so much, we've been very, very busy, so we really did not have 'opportunities for, well, we'll just say opportunities,' at Hogwarts. If we weren't in classes or training, we were keeping up the scheme or trying to keep Harry sane. I wish we could have felt as carefree as you and Dad were, but we had other things to do."

Harry could hardly believe how Ron was speaking to Molly – not so much standing up to her in a confrontational way, but speaking as an equal. As Harry thought about it, a young man who had taken such responsibility as Ron had should be able to speak as an equal to any adult – with due respect, but as an equal. It thrilled Harry as well to hear Ron say in an uncautious moment how he hated deceiving Harry; he still felt like he need reassurance that they took the matter dead serious.

"Yes, dear," replied Molly, "but it's time for some normalcy – it would be good for all of us - and while you're here or at The Burrow, that means keeping the door open when you're in any room with a girl you're not related to by blood or marriage."

"Yes, Mum," replied Ron warmly. Then Harry heard the sound of footsteps above and the swishing of cloth on cloth that told him they were hugging. "I love you, Mum," said Ron.

"I love you, too, Ronnie. I'm so glad you made it through."

"I never get tired of hearing it."

Ginny nudged Harry, and whispered through her grin, "It's been like that since we got back: we're all still very emotional. If you need them, the tissues are in the bathroom."

"You smart-aleck, you!" Harry whispered huskily. Then he called, "Hey, Hermione!"

Hermione's voice almost broke as she answered, "Yes, Harry, what is it?"

"Oh, nothing. Just making sure you were really there – it's the longest I've known you to keep quiet."

"Ha-ha, Harry! I've got enough sense to know when to keep quiet."

At that, Harry and Ginny looked at each other wide-eyed and then suddenly burst into laughter. In seconds, they heard Ron joining the laughter as well.

Harry turned to Ginny, "Is she still bald?"

"No, she's almost past the stubble stage."

"You didn't let up on her yet?"

"A deal's a deal – I could have done a lot worse."

"I'll keep that in mind. I guess I knew that you weren't someone to let such things go easily."

"I never wanted to hurt her, Harry, but I am very protective of the people I love and my relationship with them."

"I can respect that."

Then she smiled impishly up at him. "I just wanted her to finish the weekend like that. Then I'll help her replace her hair. Well, let's get going."

Harry had already set his case down in the room he would be sharing with Ron. He opened it, took out his best non-formal robes and pulled them on. "Ready!" he said.

"I take it we're going to Diagon Alley," said Ginny.

"I really don't have any clothes for a muggle restaurant, except the kind equipped with a playground. Hope you don't mind."

"Well, we'll have to do something about that, but of course, I'm not all that comfortable around muggles anyway."

"They don't bite any more than sorcerers do. There are bad eggs in almost every group, though."

"Oh, it's not that – I'm just not used to watching what I say to avoid magic talk. So how are we going?"

"I thought we'd apparate to The Leaky Cauldron and walk over to meet the twins at their place."

"Okay, I'll just get my robes and tell Hermione and Ron we'll be out front waiting. I'll also let them know to dress wizard."

"You're ready to go?"

"What – I'm not presentable?" snapped Ginny, fists on hips.

Harry held his hands up in a panic. "No, no that's not what I meant. You needn't wear anything for me."

"Oh? I bet you'd like that, Potter, if I weren't wearing anything!"

"No, wait, I … Right then, you're just playing." Ginny grinned at him. "If you want to wear nothing, that's okay by me."

"Is it really?" she said coquettishly.

"Actually, no. I really wouldn't care for all the other men ogling you – and trust me, there's not a man who fancies women who wouldn't fancy you." She smiled warmly. Then Harry looked closely at her. "You have make-up on," he said in wonderment. "I knew something was different, but it wasn't as obvious as some women are about make-up."

She tilted her head coyly and asked, "Well? Do you like it?"

"It's very nice, but the best part is that it doesn't hide your beauty. I always want to see the real Ginny."

She giggled and kissed him on the cheek. "Sometimes you're not an idiot, you know that?"

"Ooh, thanks," Harry replied, grinning. "You think you can say anything as long as you're kissing me, eh?"

"Yeah, pretty much," she answered. "Meet me at the door."

With that she ran upstairs. Harry started down to the front and heard a sudden commotion and figured that the 'open door' policy had not been a total hindrance to Ron and Hermione's affections.

"Pardon me," said Ginny playfully. Harry heard footsteps, then the sound of a wardrobe being opened and then shut, and then more steps. From the foot of the stairs, he heard Ginny say, "We'll be out front. Dress for Diagon Alley. We'll expect you in ten minutes or we'll leave without you."

On the front steps, Harry sat Ginny down on the top step and sat next to her. "I overheard the 'ten-minute' warning. That's just about right. There's something I need to ask you."

"Oh, Harry, I hope it's not… I mean I'm not even done with school yet, and, erm, the war is just over and we've just sorted out the whole plan and everything. I had hoped we'd have time to …"

Harry waved a hand and smiled. "No, not that. I hope I could find a better place than the front stoop for something like that. No, it's about spending more time together." Harry proceeded to tell her all about the promotional tour, all the places he would have to travel, and how Ron and Ginny were going as well.

Ginny looked oddly at him. "Unless I've missed something, Harry, I don't see how this means we get to spend more time together."

"Oh!' he said. "I forgot to mention that part – I can take a guest. Do you want to go?"

She suddenly squealed "Harry!" and threw herself on him, kissing him profusely and so strongly that he was forced to lie back on the brickwork of the porch. Then the frequent kisses settled down into a long lingering tender kiss.

After a bit Harry broke free and gasped some air. "I take it that's a 'yes'?"

A deep voice behind him said, "If you can't figure that out, Potter, you're stupider than you look."

Ginny and Harry both jumped up and turned to see Ron and Hermione right where they had slipped out the front door. They both had big grins.

"How long have you two been there?" snapped Ginny.

"Long enough," said Hermione. "It was so sweet; we didn't want to interrupt."

"It was kind of like Fang when he's lonely, wouldn't you say, Hermione?" said Ron.

"Only wetter," she added.

"Ha, ha, ha," said Harry. "Okay, Ginny, now the problem is convincing your parents to let you go."

"We could just ask," she said.

"Yeah, Ginny," said Ron, "we'll do that. But we have to present it just right."

"So you two already knew about it? Why'ncha say anything?"

"Yeah, of course we knew about it: _we're_ part of the tour. Harry just wanted to ask you himself."

"Well, I guess that was thoughtful, but Hermione, I'm surprised you didn't say anything."

"I haven't been here very long – I've been a little distracted," she said turning toward Ron and grinning. "Do you think you're the only reason I came here, Ginny?"

"I hope not."

"C'mon now," said Ron. "Let's go get Fred and George and talk it over during dinner. I'm starved."

"Maybe you shouldn't have worked up such an appetite, dear brother," teased Ginny.

They came in the back way through Weasley Wizard Wheezes, after disabling the hexes as Fred and George had shown Ron and Ginny. First they went to the kitchen of the apartment above the store where Fred and George lived. Obviously the place doubled as a laboratory for them, as there were magical substances, large folios with notes on different formulations and a couple of dozen miniature cauldrons with all manner of substances heating, chilling or just resting which occupied every available space. Fred and George were not upstairs yet, so the four went down the stairs to the storeroom behind the shop.

"Greetings and salutations, all,' called George cheerily. "It's lovely to get back to relatively normal business." He had leaned in from the shop with his arms full of relatively expensive and potentially dangerous items he was busy stocking on the shelves behind the counter. It just wouldn't do to have someone drop a ready-to-use blizzard indoors.

They all greeted him back. "Is Fred here?" asked Ginny, giving George a hug as soon as he set down his things.

"Yeah, he's out front showing a customer our prototype trick broomstick. After five minutes it changes into a wild boar glued to your trousers and you begin falling. When you get about five feet from the ground, it reverts to a broom and keeps you from hitting ground."

"After you've soiled yourself, eh?" asked Ron, laughing.

George grinned. "That's a possibility. Surprisingly, the biggest interest we've had in these is from witches who think their husbands spend too much time in the pubs – they reckon to switch the brooms out while the wizards are drinking and give them a good scare."

They all laughed. "That should sober them up," said Hermione.

"Is Lee going to keep the store while we're out to dinner?" asked Ron.

George got a mournful look. "I'm afraid Lee is no longer with us."

"What!" said Ron in a panic. "I thought I knew all the battle casualties? Lee wasn't killed! Or was he?"

George started to giggle. "Gotcha, Ronniekins! Wood hooked him up with the quidditch league. He'll be doing the announcing both for the live audience and over the wizard wireless. The games are always scheduled not to overlap, so he'll be able to cover them all. The previous announcer became unavailable. Lee's getting paid twice what we could pay him, and he'll be at too many games to work here as well, so he's no long with us."

"Very funny, George," said Ron. "What happened to the previous announcer – retired?"

"No, killed in the battle. He had signed on with Moldy-Voldie's team and tried to attack Dean when Dean was petrifying dementors. He hadn't reckoned on Neville."

Harry cocked his head. "Neville used something deadly?"

"Not really, but he was wicked fast and used a lot of spells. He took no chances so long as an enemy was still moving and holding a wand. It was just too much for that old son-of-a-witch's system. Neville's probably responsible for half of the dark side's human fatalities."

"Wow, I hadn't known about that part. But you were in the Broom Corps - how'd you hear all that?" asked Harry.

"Dean came around a couple of days ago. He had an interview with Denton Drabble, the portraitist. He's got a good shot at an apprenticeship. Wizard portraiture isn't something you can learn from a book."

"That's excellent," said Hermione. "He was always so good with art."

"Yeah. He also liked that it was something his family could relate to. How do you explain to muggles that you are working in the Department of Mysteries or making Floo Powder or some of the other jobs muggles don't do?"

Harry smiled. "You 'purebloods' might be surprised at how similar muggle jobs are to wizard work, just without the magic."

"Okay, Harry, I'll take your word for it. To me, life without magic would be like not having colors."

Soon Fred was done with the customer and they were on their way. Fred and George asked Harry if he had a notion of what restaurant they were going to. He didn't so they suggested going to Chang's Enchanted Wok.

"Erm, any connection to Cho Chang's family?" asked Harry.

"As a matter of fact, yes," answered Fred. "Her family moved here during the war and saw there was a need for more restaurants. It just so happens that we had already taken out options on most of the available real estate in Diagon Alley …"

"As well as Hogsmeade," interrupted George. "That's what happens when your business partner has insight into how a war is shaping up."

Fred nodded. "Yeah, we could see when the terror war started that everyone would want to gather for safety and that meant skyrocketing prices for living and work space. Don't feel sorry for the Changs though; they more than covered our war-inflated rents, and they're still covering it nicely."

"We've got them on a five-year lease. Harry, you're raking it in with us, you know. Ginny, you'd better hook 'im so we can keep the money in the family."

"Don't rush me," she said. "So far we don't know if he's good for anything when there isn't a war on."

"Oi!" said Harry, "That's not very nice."

Hermione giggled. "Well, it's not as if you ever had a job. Oh, that's right, the Dursleys trained you as a groundskeeper – you can trim hedges for the muggles."

"I _have_ a job already, thank you very much," replied Harry.

"ENOUGH!" shouted Ron. They all glared at him. "All this airy persiflage is cute, but it's not getting us closer to dinner. Let's move out."

"Okay, Ron," replied Harry, with a laugh. "We're hungry, too. So do you think Chang's will have a table for us? It sounds pretty busy and this is Friday after all."

"No problem," said Fred. "We took the liberty of reserving a table. They were already booked, but when I said it was for the 'Harry Potter party' they found room."

"See, Ginny," said Hermione. "He's good for something."

"Yeah, right! They're also the landlords and sons of the Minister of Magic – I don't really think they had to drop Harry's name."


	9. Dinner Dates

Chapter 9 Dinner Dates

They had only a short few blocks to walk to the restaurant. George ordered a bottle of green bamboo wine for the table as they removed their shoes to sit kneeling at the low table Japanese-style. The restaurants had tables for those uncomfortable sitting so low, but everyone agreed this added to the fun of the night out. The twins had also taken upon themselves to pre-order a selection of dishes to be made fresh as soon as they arrived and served family-style in large bowls.

Before the food arrived, a house elf apparated beside Hermione. He had a large bath towel wrapped at least twice around his waist and held together at the left hip with a jeweled pin. He bowed low, saying to Hermione, "If it please miss, the house elves of Chang's Restaurant would love to provide the finest of service and hope that Miss understands that they are paid by the tips. If there is anything we might do to make your time with us more pleasant, please just let us know."

Hermione's face turned from affront to delight as the elf explained himself to her, and even though the twins giggling spread to the rest of the dinner party, she accepted their message with gratitude.

"You will be able to keep the tips then?" she asked.

"Tips are shared among the staff. Miss can be assured that the elves receive everything they need."

"Are you free, then?"

"We do what we like to do, Miss. We are happy."

Finally she relented. "Well, who am I to rock the boat then?"

She glared at the others as they laughed.

"You two put him up to that, didn't you?" she accused, looking from Fred to George and back.

"Hermione, you're one of our best targets – how could we not?" replied George.

As they shared their wine and then the meal, they kicked around all sorts of ideas for convincing Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to let Ginny go on the tour. As additional bottles of wine were brought out, the ideas got sillier and more grandiose. Ginny kept saying that they should just put it to their parents straight, but she egged the others on as they came up with more and more bizarre stories to tell. The stories became more and more ornately embroidered, and they giggled as they got more absurd.

Harry was thankful for the cool fresh air and the walk back to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and then over to The Leaky Cauldron. He needed his wits about him to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley when he got back to the house. He was to make the primary presentation, with Ron and Hermione's support.

As they entered they found the lights on only in the kitchen and heard quiet voices and laughter. They came through the door and found Bill, Fleur, Arthur and Molly sitting around one end of the table with cups of tea.

"Ahh, there you are," greeted Mr. Weasley, rising.

"Dad!" shouted Ginny, while launching herself into an enthusiastic hug. "I was afraid you'd have to go back to the Ministry after dinner."

He gave her back a bit of a rub and then hugged the others, as he replied, "Not on a night like this, dear. I have some parchments to review, but on occasion, even a new Minister has to let others mind the shop."

"That's great," said Harry, "because there's something we wanted to talk over with you."

"And we have something to tell you," said Arthur. "You go first, you seem pretty well wound up to get it off your chest."

"Right then," said Harry uneasily, as he accepted the mug of tea Molly had poured for him. "It's that, …" he hesitated and glanced at Ginny. Ron nudged him. Harry began again, "You see, there's this, …" Harry glanced again at Ginny; Ron and Hermione both groaned as he stammered again.

"We had worked out all sorts of approaches to tell you, but I'm just going to say it. You know that Hermione, Ron and I are going on a promotional world tour for our Famous Wizard Cards. I can take a guest and I want to take Ginny. Can you let her go?"

"Oh," said Molly woodenly. Arthur seemed unable to respond.

Ron nudged Harry and whispered, but not so quietly that others wouldn't hear, "What happened to all those delicate approaches we worked on."

"Ron, some of those were not delicate – they were lies. I've never had a family before. I'm not going to start off with one lying to them."

"Ginny," said Arthur, "were you in on devising stories to tell us?"

"I knew about them, Dad. I was there."

"No, Ginny. You were there, but you kept saying to just be direct. Your contributions were just to make us see how silly we were all being."

"Harry," said Arthur, "were you really going to tell us tall tales?"

"I've done a fair bit of that over my years as a wizard. I'm not proud of it, but things have not been exactly normal for me."

Arthur looked his wife in the eye and she understood his concern. "So, Harry," she asked, "what made you change your mind?"

"Well, of course, part of it is as I said, I don't want to start out with this family on a lie. But even stronger was Ginny not liking it. I couldn't stand the thought of not being a man she can respect. I'm a better person when I'm with her because I don't want to disappoint her. I don't know if I can be as good a man as her father and brothers, but I aim to try. And that's why I need her with me – Professor Dumbledore, erm, Albus, says it'll be as much about letting people get to know the real me, rather than the stories that have spread around. I want to show people the best Harry, and around Ginny, I try to be the best Harry I can be."

"You're asking us to let our little girl, our only daughter, who won't be of age for over a month, head around the world with you?"

"Erm, yes, but Ron and Hermione will be along, too."

"Wonderful – it appears that they were in on this, and I get the impression they would be too distracted with each other to chaperone you two anyway."

"Dad, it's not really a question of chaperoning," interrupted Bill. "They'll both be at Hogwarts this year, anyway. There's nothing they can do in India they can't do at Hogwarts. Besides, on a trip like this, with such an eminent delegation, wouldn't the Ministry be sending aurors along for security anyway."

Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione all suddenly glared angrily at Bill, aghast at his suggestion, and he returned them a superior, bemused smirk. Arthur and Molly whispered together a few seconds, then turned back to Harry and Ginny. "Okay, then. Ginny can go. I will be looking into the availability of an auror, although we're stretched very thin."

"Understand, though, we expect frequent owls with things written from each of you."

"Of course. Thanks so much," said Harry with evident relief. "Oh, that reminds me." He ran upstairs and returned in a few seconds with the owl cage.

"Here," he said, handing the cage to Arthur. "Congratulations, Minister. Now you'll have a family owl capable of keeping in touch with us anywhere."

Molly lifted the cover off the cage to reveal the handsome barn owl Harry had gotten.

"Oh, it's so cute!" squealed Ginny.

"Very nice. Thanks, Harry," said Arthur.

"I'll have to admit there's a bit of self-interest there – I got a bit tired of dodging the debris from Errol's landings."

"Yes, I guess he's due for a rest. He might make a nice companion for Buckbeak."

"I thought this was good for the Weasleys – it's not ostentatious like an eagle owl, but big enough to carry larger packages. Also it will be thrilled with the garage at The Burrow when you're not living here."

"Good reasoning, Harry. Does this one have a name yet?"

"No, I just got him this afternoon."

"Well, Molly, do you want to do the honors?"

"Hmm," she said, as she looked him over. Then she went to the refrigerator for a strip of cold meat to give him. As she handed it to him through the wires of the cage, she said, "Preston. That's your name: Preston."

"Preston," agreed the others.

"A fine name, dear," said Arthur.

"Better then Pigwidgeon," said Ron under his breath. No sooner had he mentioned his owl, than he heard a tittering coming down from the small owlery atop the house. They heard a thump on the door and Hermione gave it a push to let Ron's tiny Scops owl in. It zoomed excitedly all around the room.

"Right then, you feathery git, this is Preston. Show him to the owlery, and don't be a pest about it." Molly opened the cage and let Preston out, as Hermione again opened the door and Pig led Preston up to his new home.

"Right, then," said Hermione, "if that's settled, what's your news?"

"Fleur and I will handle this," said Bill, reaching over to gently take her hand. "Fleur and I are getting married."

They all cheered for the news. Harry and Ron gave Bill back slaps, while Ginny and Hermione squealed with Fleur and demanded to see the engagement ring.

When things calmed down, Arthur said, "Right now, they're aiming for a winter solstice wedding."

"I'm guessing that's magically significant," said Ron, "but I'm not sure."

"I think it is more symbolic," said Fleur, "but it is the shortest day of the year, all the days that come after are sunnier, and I think that from that day on, all my days will be brighter having such a fine brave husband."

Ginny and Hermione started to get moist-eyed at this explanation. Harry nudged Ron in the ribs, saying, "And Bill likes it because it's the longest _night_ in the year."

Ron laughed, "Who can blame him with a bride like that?"

Hermione gave Ron an angry glance, but Bill just grinned. "Now, Ron, she'll be your sister-in-law – let's not be doing too much noticing."

Harry shook his head. "Get used to it, Bill, if you aren't already. Even without the veela-magic, she turns heads. Besides, it's not as if you haven't noticed how pretty Hermione is."

Hermione turned open-mouthed and adoringly toward Harry. Bill blushed a bit and said, "Well …," which had Hermione turning back toward Bill with the same expression, and Fleur putting on a faint but distinct scowl at him.

Arthur came up behind Ginny and put his arms around her. "Don't feel left out, Princess. You're beautiful, too."

"Thanks, Dad," she said, as she bent her head backwards and pulled his head down to kiss his cheek.

"Oh, absolutely," Harry added hurriedly, "but I could hardly ask Bill if he found his sister sexy. It gives me the creeps just to say it."

"Ginger, you needn't worry," said Bill. "I can appreciate your beauty without the kinds of thoughts Harry can't keep out of his mind. Which reminds me, should I go thrash him a bit for those thoughts?"

She grinned. "No, no, that's okay."

"Whew," said Bill. "I just got out of hospital. I didn't want to go back so quickly."

"Well, then," said Molly, "How long will I have the four of you before you start your tour."

"The tour starts in two weeks," said Ron. "There's a big promotional kickoff party on Saturday, the twelfth, at Weasley Wizard Wheezes."

"Oh, good, I'll have you all for two weeks anyway."

"Not exactly, Mum. The week before the kickoff, Harry and I have quidditch tryouts, and this week I'll be helping Hermione find a flat."

"Oh, but Hermione, you know you would be welcome to stay here."

"The offer is very much appreciated, Mrs. Weasley, …"

"'Molly', dear."

"Yes, Maam, erm, Molly, but I'm afraid I will be keeping very erratic hours with my training at the Department of Mysteries and St. Mungo's. I would be quite a disruption."

Molly peered at her. "You can't be saying you would be more of a disruption than having the members of the Order in and out at all hours and in all conditions, can you?"

"Perhaps there is a certain amount of simply wanting to have a place of my own."

Ginny leaned over to Harry and whispered loudly enough for all to hear, "It's so she can leave her knickers lying about – she's a mess without the help of a house elf."

Hermione's faced reddened, as the others giggled.

Harry whispered back, just as loudly, "I think it's so she can close the door when Ron's visiting."

The others laughed openly at this as Hermione stamped her foot at Harry and Ginny.

Arthur intervened. "It is certainly not unusual for a young person to desire a place of their own once they become financially able. It is not for us to speculate as to the advantages. Hermione, will you be looking at flats in Diagon Alley – with all their investments, I am sure the twins will be able to set you up in a place."

"We weren't going to. Aren't the rents terribly high there?" asked Ron.

"They were," answered Arthur. "With the war over, however, people are returning to their homes elsewhere. I've just reviewed a report on the sudden drop of the rental market in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. There are a number of investors who are overbuilt and want the Ministry to help them out – they say they provided a necessary service for wartime, and they should be protected from such severe loss."

"Would that include Fred and George?" asked Ron.

"No, when I got the report, I discussed it with them. They scoffed. The rent they received during the war almost paid for the new properties they bought or built. They say it's the same for the other landlords there. Several of them were renting out their rooftops for people to pitch wizard tents to live in, and now think that stream of income should be guaranteed to them."

"How absurd – people only gathered in Diagon Alley for eight or nine months," said Fleur. "It is not as if they maintained facilities for years."

So what will you tell them?" asked Bill.

"I asked Fred and George to pop around to the others and let them know that the Ministry needs its funds for keeping prisoners, but if they would like to house a couple of dozen dark wizard in their properties, we might be able to rent their flats for a bit. That shut them up."

"Well, I'll see what they might have available or other properties they would know about," said Hermione. "I was actually thinking of perhaps a muggle flat, so my parents would be able to come around and I could have a telephone to call them on."

Ron got an uncomfortable look, but Arthur became wide-eyed. "Really – a telly-foam? A person can have one in their home?"

"Oh, of course, Dad," said Harry. "In fact, the Finnegans had one. Of course, the Finnegan side of the family is muggle and they live more among muggles than wizards. Hermione, maybe what you should have is a cell phone instead of a hard line." Then he realized that he was not making sense to the Weasleys. "Oh, a hard line is a phone which carries the messages in wires that connect it to the system. A cell phone uses wireless waves through the air to connect to the other phones."

Arthur looked delirious at hearing this. "Like magic, what will those muggles come up with next!" he said dreamily. The others laughed.

"But Harry," said Hermione, "would a c-phone even work in Diagon Alley – you know at Hogwarts electrical things don't work."

"I saw a witch in Diagon Alley speaking into what looked like a cellphone this evening. It could have been something else, but you can find out. Maybe you can borrow one from the phone company to test, or – I know, my cousin Dudley's had more than one for years. I'll write him a note of explanation for you to take to him. He's become more fascinated with wizard things now that they don't hate me, so if you offer to show him around Diagon Alley, I'm sure he'll let you test the service there."

"Harry," said Mrs. Weasley, "wouldn't you be able to go along to meet your cousin?"

"Only if we did it this weekend. Monday morning I go to the Ministry for my Apparation Instructor test, then I have to get right back to Hogwarts. Dumbledore wants to show me all sorts of stuff around the school."

"Oh, you'll be before the Licensing Office then?" she asked. Harry nodded and she continued, "Give Percy our love then. Most of the staff there had to be pulled away dealing with the prisoners and paperwork after the war, so he's been transferred there temporarily."

"Erm, is he the junior staff there?"

"Actually," answered Arthur, 'right now he's the only staff there. That's why they put him there. He's so gung-ho about bureaucracy, he'll handle the whole operation himself - promised to modernize the systems while he's at it, using techniques he learned about in Newt-level Muggle Studies. I've already told him that if his new systems really improve operations, we'll put him to work doing the same for other Ministry departments."

"Ah, that explains why he was so happy when he visited me at Hogwarts a couple of days ago," said Bill. "I asked him and he just said it was something I wouldn't understand. A chance to be Grand Poobah of Paperwork for the Ministry – yeah, he's right, I don't understand."

When the laughter died down, Arthur said, "Yes, it's not something that appeals to most of us. I value ever more each day those who have an appetite for it."

Harry sighed. "I only wish he was administering my test before we learned that he was undercover for Albus."

"Why's that, Harry?" asked Fleur.

Harry sighed. "Because the test is focused on the magical reversal knowledge. They already know I can apparate. I've got to show I can fix all the errors that a person can make while apparating. The examiner has to be the test subject."

Ron's face became joyous. "Can I come and watch, Harry?"

"Ron!" scolded Hermione. "Don't hold a grudge. He was on our side all along."

"I know what you're saying, Hermione, but I can't forget that letter he sent me after I made prefect. Anyone who praises Umbridge so enthusiastically deserves to get splinched." They laughed. Then Ron's face turned darker, "and anyone who tells me to turn my back on Harry deserves a lot worse."

Harry had to blink several times to keep his composure. Then Arthur said, "Now, Ron. He had to say those things. Suppose someone had come across that letter – when you are undercover, you have to be totally committed to your role. The slightest lapse can get you killed."

"If you insist then, but I still think he played the git a bit too enthusiastically," said Ron.

"Ron, he has his ways, you knew that even before he seemed to turn on the family. That's why he was the only Weasley who could have pulled off the ruse."

"Yeah, yeah. But now, Harry – it's fair enough to take your time to make sure you get the reversals right, eh?"

"Oh, I'll have to be very careful," agreed Harry. "I can't afford to fail this exam - I'd be left unemployed."

"Exactly," grinned Ron. "That's the spirit!"


	10. Roaming Hogwarts

Chapter 10 Roaming Hogwarts

"Caramel Kumquats!" called Harry to the entrance to the Headmaster's office. Soon Harry was riding up the moving spiral staircase. He had just apparated to Hagrid's cabin after his Apparation Instructor examination at the Ministry. Hermione, Ginny and Ron had accompanied Harry and Arthur Weasley going to the Ministry. Ron and Ginny said they wanted to cheer Harry on, but he suspected they were just as interested in seeing Percy splinch himself deliberately. Harry had to admit that Percy proved himself a very thorough examiner, putting himself through some of the most painful and complicated apparition accidents Harry could imagine.

After the test was over, he asked Percy, "What would you have done if you had stumped me with one of those?"

Percy looked back puzzled. "I know you, Harry. The thought never crossed my mind."

After that, even Ron couldn't hold a grudge. He slapped an arm around Percy's shoulders and said, "You're an officious git, but I guess you really are all right."

"Why would you have thought otherwise?"

Before Ron could give an answer that would re-open old wounds, Ginny and Hermione had each grabbed him by an arm.

"Come along, Ron. We have appointments to look at apartments," said Hermione, hustling him out the door.

Ginny made sure he was through the door before she doubled back to give Harry a tender kiss. "Have a great week at Hogwarts. I'll be expecting you Friday evening when you're done."

"I'll count the minutes."

She laughed. "Yeah, right. Just make it as soon as you can. You, too, Percy. Mum and Dad would love to have you around more."

"I can't," he replied.

"Oh, come on, Percy. Things were tense for a few years there, but it's okay now."

"No, I mean it, I can't. I've been to the address that Bill gave me, but I can't find the house. There must be a secret-keeper or something."

Harry thumped his head. "That's right! You weren't in with the rest of us when the Order was using it, so Dumbledore never gave you the address. I'll get him to write it down for you. I'll meet you in the lobby on Friday afternoon and we'll go together."

"Splendid, Harry. And while we've been talking, I've been able to finish up your paperwork. Here, you keep these copies, post this certificate on your office wall, keep this fuchsia copy in a file in your desk, take the amber form and give it to Dumbledore, file the ochre one with the Bureau of Educational Standards, give the ecru one to the Hogsmeade town clerk, and post this one in the Apparation instruction room at the school."

Harry was bewildered, as he shuffled through the papers he was given. "Erm, this one goes … on my bureau, and this one goes in the wall, and this one …"

Percy laughed uproariously. "Got you, Potter! The advantage of being thought not to have a sense of humor is that people don't suspect you when you're having them on. I know no one could remember all of that. Trust me – I've simplified matters considerably already. There used to be over thirty different certificates that went to 23 different locations. I've got it down to seven, plus a certificate. But now I'll file the one for Educational Standards and you just give the rest to the Ministry Compliance elf at the school. She already knows the spell that reveals what to do with each one of them. You're all set. See you Friday. I'll plan on 5:30 unless you owl me otherwise."

Harry and Ginny told Ron and Hermione about it all as they took the elevator to the lobby where they could apparate out. They were amazed at Percy's jape, but then Hermione observed, "You know, he must be feeling brilliant. He really is in his element now, with the government agencies, and now that he and your Dad are not at odds, the sky's the limit for him. No wonder he was so, well, giddy for him."

When he arrived at Hagrid's cabin, Harry was unhappy at seeing how many things had already been packed.

"Sure, Harry. Got to be out before the end of the summer, an' I've still got to give me language potions time to work before I start teachin' at Beauxbaton's."

"So they have a position for you? Sleeping your way to the top, eh?"

Hagrid cocked his head at Harry. "If it were anyone else but you joking like that, …"

"By the way, Hagrid, what's a language potion? I've never heard of those."

"Yeah, they don't teach them. They're a pretty narrow specialty. There's a slightly different formula for each language. Like polyjuice, you make the basic formula, and then you customize it with a bit of the native cheese – it gives you the proper culture. You take one a week for a couple o' months and at the end you can speak the language pretty well – not fluent, mind you, but enough to make y'self understood. Professor Snape's brewing up a series of 'em for me as a wedding present."

"English or French?" asked Harry with a bemused smirk.

"Why, French, of … Hey, there, Harry. You're being awfully cheeky today. What gives?"

"I don't know, Hagrid. I'm sad to think of you going, and I think occasionally about the good people who were killed, but otherwise, everything's just so amazing. I've got a future and no one's gunning for me. I've just been pranked by Percy, so that puts me in a silly mood. I had a great weekend with the Weasleys and Hermione, so that made me feel great."

"Especially the private time with Ginny?"

Harry grinned from ear to ear. "Well, yeah. I got the impression you didn't mind the faculty meetings this past year that included only half-giants, either."

Hagrid beamed. "I never thought I'd have someone in my life that'd want to marry me. I'd enjoyed me life before pretty well, but with someone you love in't, it's just beautiful."

"Yeah. If I hadn't seen for myself how happy Maxime makes you, I'd be trying to convince you not to go."

"I'll miss you, too, Harry. Hey, you still owe me some Apparation lessons. When you're done with Dumbledore this evening, come around. We'll work on't some and then pop around to The Three Broomsticks for dinner and drinks and just be a couple of mates out on the town."

"Sounds great, Hagrid. Just don't start any bar brawls."

"S'matter, Harry. Don't think we could hold up in a fight?"

Harry laughed at that and hurried on to meet with Dumbledore. Harry reached the top of the stairs and knocked at the door.

"Come in, come in, Harry," called Dumbledore. The door popped open, but Dumbledore was not at it. He was levitating a case which made a tinkling sound as it was lowered from a high shelf, and guided it to his desk, next to where the pensieve sat. "One of the most important functions of a Hogwarts headmaster is to maintain a memory collection of as many of the critical moments of the school's history as possible," he explained. "Those who come after can consult this information should the need or interest arise later, and they can relive it, rather than merely read about it in _Hogwarts: a History. _I'm afraid I have been rather remiss in collecting for several years."

"You've had a lot to keep you busy," offered Harry.

"Ah, yes, truly I have, but it is time to make amends as well as possible. We have lost the opportunity to gather memories from a number of students, from Cedric Diggory and Marietta Edgecombe to Ernie MacMillan and the others lost in the past week."

Harry nodded. "But, how can you ask people to give up their school memories. Don't they need them, or at least want them? I thought pulling from the mind took them out, and they would need to be put back for a person to be able to remember them."

"Indeed, Harry, that is just how it works. If it didn't, then the excellent function of the pensieve in helping one to sort out disparate thoughts could not work. However, the pensieve can also be used to make duplicates, so that the donor can take his memories back, but we can also keep them in our storage case. Let me show you. I've been wanting to preserve your recollection of your adventure in the Chamber of Secrets. Take your wand out. Now think about going to the Chamber's entrance. Touch the wand to your temple and gently pull the memory out. Place it in the pensieve. Now think of how you opened the Chamber; now use your wand again. Just keep going and let me know when you are done."

Harry went step-by-step through the time in the Chamber, trying to remember every detail. He had some hesitancy when he came to some of the feelings he had not previously recognized that he had felt for Ginny at the time, especially as she was only 11 then. However, he remembered that he was only twelve at the time and that came along as part of the memory that he pulled out.

"I think that's it – it's hard to remember."

"That's the idea. Now, what can you recall about the Chamber of Secrets? Conversations, Fawkes, carvings, anything?"

"Nothing, Albus. I feel as vacant as Lockhart, at least about that."

Dumbledore laughed. "An excellent description. Now we'll put some blank memory potion in," he said as he unstoppered a bottle and put some light grey potion into the silver pool of Harry's memories. Then he stirred it around gently with his wand gently. "Duplicate memories do not like to be in the same vessel, and it gets worse the more duplicates you have, so as I stir, the blank potion will only duplicate the memories that have not already been duplicated. Putting in the same amount that you put in means we'll get one exact copy. Now Harry, the memories have been copied. Dip the tip of your wand in, lift out a strand, and return it to your mind. Again, because the duplicate memories are not comfortable in the pensieve together, as you remove memories, the ones with multiple copies in the pensieve will migrate to your wand. Look, there, that little bump on the surface – you missed a duplicate strand and its twin is trying to evict it. Get it. Now, let's see. Yes, that's it. There's just a single set in there. I'll just place this set in a bottle and have a look later."

"You're going to go through my memories?"

"It's part of my curatorial duties, to examine the memories we are collecting. I'll be asking you for a great many, as you can imagine. Don't worry. Other than the headmaster, they are almost never viewed except under extreme circumstances."

"Is that why you set up this meeting, to mine my head for memories?"

Dumbledore glanced sideways at Harry. "You sound a little suspicious, Harry."

"I've been manipulated quite a bit over the past several years."

"Yes, you have. Fair enough. Then the answer to your question is no, it's not just an opportunity for me to acquire your memories. I will also be taking all these memories with us and showing you events involving various locations around the school. I expect in the years to come, should problems arise, people will want to rely on you – you should know as much as possible about how problems arose before and how they were addressed. So we will be filling your head with memories, just as we will be preserving your memories should others have need of them. I wanted to get the Chamber of Secrets memory first, because unlike the others, it has not been contaminated with later visits to the site. Our memories can become overlaid with later experiences, particularly if those experiences bear strong similarities, such as locales, smells, companions, that sort of thing."

"That makes sense. I'm not sure I could sort out every detail of every quidditch game I've played, and I've only played, let's see, I think fifteen of them, at least official school games."

"If you're ready, then, why don't we start at the top with the Astronomy Tower and work our way down."

"Lead the way. I know lots of passages, but I trust that you know even more."

"Indeed, but I do not pretend to know them all, so wherever either of us knows of a choice of paths, we must point them out. And even so, the point is not necessarily that we get to particular places, but that we have an edifying journey through as many of the mysteries of this venerable castle as we can. Remember, not all who wander are lost."

It was midafternoon when they reached the corridor in front of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"Ah, I was hoping we would be able to reach this spot early enough," said Dumbledore. "It is important that we have your memories of the times you were here."

"I thought you seemed to be choosing the route to get us here," said Harry.

"There are many ways through the castle, so we can cover some of the corridors we did not take another day. I would like you to use the pensieve now to duplicate the memories of the first time you found the painted message on the wall."

"Okay. Now as I recall, what led me up to this point was hearing the basilisk in the walls during my detention with Lockhart. Shall I start with that?"

"That's a good place, yes. My only reluctance is that a great amount of the memory will no doubt consist of Gilderoy prattling on about himself."

"Must I return those memories to my mind?" asked Harry, grinning.

"As much as I can understand your reluctance to do so, you never know what details wrapped up in those memories you may need at some point. You'd better put them back and file them away. While you are doing that, I will call for Dobby."

"Dobby? What for?"

"To assist us in the Chamber of Secrets, of course."

"Oh, I didn't realize we would be going there so soon."

"No time like the present. This will probably be my only visit to it, actually. I think we should both have a look around, so that we have both of our magical awareness attuned to any interesting charms or hexes."

After Harry had completed duplicating and storing his memories of the various times he had significant events in the corridor, they went to the bathroom. Harry took the lead, giving a light knock, then opening the door a bit and calling, "Hello! Anybody in here? Myrtle?"

"Who's that?" answered Myrtle sulkily from a stall.

"It's me, Harry."

"Harry who?" she said huffily.

"Harry Potter. You know my voice well enough."

"Maybe I do. Maybe I don't want to. You haven't visited."

"It's a girls' bathroom. May I come in?"

"You never asked before. Why would you worry what I think now?"

"Just trying to be polite, Myrtle. I have some people with me." Dobby squeaked with delight at being referred to as a person.

"Oh? Who?"

"Professor Dumbledore and Dobby, he's a … how do you describe yourself to witches and wizards, Dobby? You look like an elf, but you aren't one entirely. It would be confusing to call you a goblin."

"I usually calls myself a free elf, Harry Potter," replied Dobby. "I find when I proudly say I am free, no more questions are asked."

"I'll bet. So Myrtle, can we come in. We need to talk to you about using your bathroom."

"You can come in, but I don't want you using my bathroom. Boys are too messy in bathrooms. Hello, Professor Dumbledore, it's been years."

"Yes, it has. Almost six, I believe. The wizard who caused your death is now gone."

"Ooh, really," said Myrtle, fascinated. "Who did it? Who was it? I hope he didn't die of old age!"

"No, Myrtle. It was Tom Riddle."

"No! Really? He was always so charming. I had to wonder though when he put the blame on Rubeus. Oh, yes, I was already back and paying attention. I knew it wasn't him, because the voice I heard was way too high, but I didn't know it was Riddle's voice because of that funny language he spoke. So how did he buy the farm?"

"Harry, here, battled him and induced a sort of crisis of conscience that undid his magic."

"Ooh, Harry, you killed him? We must talk all about it," said Myrtle, as seductively as she could.

"Erm, well, Myrtle, I reckon we'll have plenty of opportunities. You see what we want to do is close off this bathroom so that I can use it to explore the Chamber of Secrets."

"Oh, I see. Well, I don't suppose it would actually cut down on the traffic in here – no one comes in anyway. So you'd be the only one coming in here?"

"Well, Dobby would come with me. He's my assistant for the exploration. Erm, maybe you'd like to explore it with us?"

"Oh, sure, Harry, you're just humoring me now. Don't be rude."

"Actually," answered Harry sincerely, "I hadn't really thought it through before, but you would be very helpful in the Chamber. You can check the ceilings and things that are hard for Dobby and me to get to, and if there are dangerous things, you won't be hurt and you can warn us."

"Two problems with THAT, Harry," she replied crankily. "Ghosts don't trigger most hexes, so I wouldn't be much help that way, and I can't go into unplottable spaces – no ghost can. How kind of you to _remind_ me of my limitations – not!"

And with that, Myrtle wailed and dove into a toilet causing a splash all around the floor. Dobby dried the water with a wave of his hand.

"That went very well for dealing with Myrtle," observed Harry.

"Hmm," said Professor Dumbledore, "I didn't know ghosts couldn't go into unplottable places. One learns new things every day. I suppose that explains why the ghosts never found the Chamber when they were asked to assist."

"It's just as well, Albus. Remember what happened to Nearly-Headless Nick: if the ghosts had been going through the Chamber, then in the course of a millenium it would have been stuffed full of petrified ghosts."

"A grim spectre, indeed," said Dumbledore, with a wink.


	11. Into the Chamber of Secrets

Chapter 11 Into the Chamber of Secrets

Professor Dumbledore glanced around Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Then he raised his hand like he was feeling for a gentle breeze. "Somewhere over here, isn't it, Harry? Excellent. Now that I have the general feel, why don't you show me the entrance to the Chamber."

Harry led the way to the sinks and pointed out the snake scratched into the faucet. He started to work on speaking in parseltongue, but was stopped by Professor Dumbledore. "Not yet, Harry. I'd like to examine it in detail unopened while you duplicate your memories of making Polyjuice Potion here."

Harry's head jerked toward Dumbledore. "You know about that? I specifically left that out when I told about the Chamber that year. I didn't want to get Hermione in trouble."

Dumbledore gave a cock-eyed smile. "I've already told you, dear boy, that you have been watched most all your life more closely than you could have imagined. In this case, however, I got reports from Myrtle."

"How did you know to speak with her?"

"When Mrs. Norris was petrified right outside this bathroom, I remembered that Myrtle had been killed here the last time the Chamber was opened. It seemed too much of a coincidence, so I asked Myrtle to tell me anything unusual she saw. One of those things was a trio of second-years brewing a potion in a stall."

"You didn't stop us?"

"Is that a question or a statement? Of course you know I didn't, so I assume you are concerned with why. The short answer is that Miss Granger was doing it very well."

"Not just the Polyjuice – going into the Chamber, the whole thing."

"Yes, I thought you meant that as well. First, I did not yet know how it was being opened, so I did not know how to put a stop to that problem. More importantly, merely stopping it was not enough – there were very dangerous matters afoot. Ginny could have been taken anywhere for Riddle to steal her soul – he chose the Chamber because he wanted to lure you down as well. Until you emerged from the Chamber with the diary, I did not know how he had carried out his plans."

"How could you let me go down there like that?"

"It pained me greatly, just as giving you the chance to prove yourself the year before did. But I recognized early on in you that there is not a more resourceful wizard anywhere when it comes to acting to save someone you love."

Harry lifted his hand to gesture toward Professor Dumbledore, who stopped him before he could speak. "No, not even I am more creative and tenacious in such challenges. I have my strengths: I won't practice false modesty and deny them. And you have yours. I could recognize you as the person to end the evil of the Chamber."

Harry stared open-mouthed for several seconds; really, what was one to say in the face of such a vote of confidence, particularly as it was expressed in actions when Harry was only twelve. He had to let it sink in as Dumbledore turned to examine the entrance. Then, gathering himself again, Harry returned to the pensieve to continue the process of duplicating and storing his memories. Partway through, Dumbledore asked Harry to open the Chamber entrance, and after a couple of false starts, he did so. Dumbledore continued to examine the entrance as Harry completed preservation of his memories.

"Now, how do we enter the Chamber, Harry?" said Dumbledore when Harry was done duplicating his memories. Dumbledore and Dobby were both peering down the lightless pipe with mixed fascination and wariness.

"This pipe takes you there, like a muggle waterslide, except it was mostly slimy – it's too dark for algae so I guess it's some kind of mold growing on water condensing in the pipes. Once in it, there's really no choice but to continue to the end. It has some pretty hard bumps, even for a twelve-year-old, though, and some tight areas as well."

"Are you concerned you can no longer fit through it?"

"No, Lockhart did it, and I'm still not as large as him. I have some concern with your height and, well, erm, your age."

"Don't be embarrassed to say it, Harry. I'd be foolish to deny I'm an old man, and bones do get more brittle as one ages. Dobby, would you be able to apparate yourself and another person down there."

Dobby moved his hands around like they were antennas, both above and inside the pipe, and Harry recognized the gesture as Dobby feeling the magical enchantments around the place. "Dobby thinks he could do so, sir, if Dobby knew where the pipe ended and if the entrance remains open. With the entrance closed, it appears that the Charms would block any sort of apparition, even by elves or goblins."

"Harry, will the entrance close once people go down there?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes, Albus. Otherwise finding the entrance would have been easy when Ginny was taken down there. When Fawkes carried us all back through, I had to call up through the pipe to re-open the entrance."

"Can you call to the entrance to open all the way from the end of this pipe?"

"I believe so, sir. Sound carries very well through the metal of the pipes, and parseltongue is best heard through solid objects, since snakes hear vibrations carried through the ground, not through the air – they have no external ears, you know."

"Yes, Harry, I do," said Dumbledore, with a bemused smile at Harry instructing him on something so mundane. "They would be quite a sight slithering along with pricked up fox ears, wouldn't they?"

Dobby giggled and Harry laughed at the imagery.

Dumbledore continued. "As for visiting the Chamber, I think our wisest course is for Dobby to go first so we can see how long the entrance will remain open. If it closes, Harry can re-open it and Dobby can make sure he can apparate up here. Then you can go down, Harry, and make sure that you can re-open the Chamber all the way from the end. When it is re-opened, Dobby will apparate me down there."

"That sounds like a good plan, Albus, except for one thing. Suppose I can't open it all the way from the bottom. I don't think I'll be able to crawl up the pipes far enough to do it if my voice won't carry effectively through the pipes. How would I get out?"

"That's another reason I had you preserve your memories of the previous opening of the Chamber," answered Dumbledore, as he reached for the pensieve and one of the bottles of Chamber memories. "Do you remember when I showed you my memory of Professor Trelawney's prophecy? You were able to actually hear her making it. Now that I have your memory of the opening, I can recreate your speaking of the words and it ought to open the entrance."

"Yeah, that makes sense, but it may take the physical presence or the conscious involvement of the parselmouth."

"Excellent point, Harry. When Dobby is down in the Chamber, you will leave the loo and I will conjure your memory of opening the Chamber and see if that will work without you even present in the room."

With that, Dumbledore indicated for Dobby to go down the pipe as the memory was poured into the pensieve. Dobby squealed with delight as he zoomed around the bends. "A lot easier to enjoy it," thought Harry, "when you know it can be safely done and you aren't expecting a basilisk at the end."

As they continued their complicated procedures to test openings and closings, Harry's anxiety increased. Everything went along as hoped – Dobby could apparate with things or people so long as the entrance was open, Harry could open it all the way from the end of the pipe if he spoke right next to the pipe's end, and Harry's memory of speaking parseltongue opened the Chamber entrance – but Harry was apprehensive. He told himself it was the natural result of remembering his previous visit, but he was not entirely sure. He knew there must be more enchantments and protections than just the entrance, and he was not sure that he was up to encountering them.

"Nervous, Harry?" Dumbledore interrupted Harry's train of thought after Dobby had apparated him down to the end of the pipe, where Harry stood with his wand lit, looking cautiously down the passage.

Harry's mouth was dry, so he just nodded.

"There is, of course, the strong air of longstanding magic about this place," Dumbledore added. "Do you feel it?"

Harry nodded silently again.

"A bit of nervousness is to be expected. I'd be concerned if you were flippant. I am put off by the aura of this place as well, but it is very possible that Slytherin felt that parseltongue and unplottability were all the protections this place needed. Still, let's all three keep our wits about us here."

Dumbledore conjured three large torches and lit them, as their flames would provide better light than their wands, and protection from certain possible protections, such as inferi.

"Besides," observed Harry, "there is something quite comforting about fire."

"Yes, Harry, I know what you mean. It probably goes back to the origins of humanity, when fire kept the wild beasts at bay."

"Yes, and it was the center of feasting and warmth," added Harry. Then he got a wry smile, "And a special someone in your life can seem all the more intriguing by firelight."

Dumbledore's face crinkled into a broad grin. "I believe you have mastered your fear if your mind is turning down those avenues."

When Harry and Ron had been down in the Chamber, they had not really examined it beyond looking for signs of Ginny or the basilisk. Having removed those 2 items of interest, Harry began with Dumbledore to survey the place with an eye to what else might be of interest. They walked 3 abreast keeping to the left, so they would cover everything by slowly working along the edges of the walls; the opposite wall would be examined as they returned toward the pipe. As Harry had described it, none of the known passages were so wide that they would miss anything at ground level this way, at least until they came to the main chamber where the statue of Slytherin held court over the dim glow. The initial part of the exploration revealed a fairly simple tunnel, like a mine shaft, except that stone arches had been erected so as to have supports that would not be subject to the relatively rapid decay of wood.

"Magically hewn," observed Harry, running his fingers along the wall. "I hadn't noticed that before."

"No, you wouldn't have," agreed Dumbledore. "You were quite agitated on your first visit and you are an adult now."

"I understand the first part, but what do you mean about being an adult?"

"Did you not feel yourself becoming much stronger magically last summer, Harry?"

"Well, yes, but I thought that was just the breaking down of the divide between Riddle and me – was there something more at work?"

"Yes. Wizards did not just pull that age out of the air and call it 'adult' – it is the age where a witch or wizard has a fairly sudden increase in powers, essentially to full strength, although you may get a bit stronger yet. That is almost certainly why the breakdown of the division between the two of you proceeded so briskly starting last summer. It is also one of the reasons that I never encouraged exploration of this place previously – the strength of an adult wizard is not just brute strength to do big magic, but the sensitivity and subtlety to recognize more delicate magic."

"Rather like the difference among muggles when they go on to Uni – they are exposed to more complex and subtle ideas because they generally have the maturity of mind then to comprehend them."

"That's the hope anyway. As with wizards, some never develop any real appreciation of fine distinctions at all."

Harry suddenly stopped them all. "It was just about here that we got our first jolt – stepping on a rat skull. We were already so nervous, we nearly threw up when we heard that sickly crunch." Harry examined around the center of the tunnel and a couple of yards away, he pointed and said, "Ah, yes, here it is!"

Dumbledore and Dobby came over and peered at it. "Interesting," said Dumbledore.

"What, Albus?"

"Well, Harry, this indicates several things about the enchantments here. We knew it had to be unplottable and impenetrable at least by magical beings. But the presence of a rat skeleton shows that nonmagical creatures can enter. That would, of course, have been necessary to allow the basilisk to have sufficient food to survive the thousand-odd years it was down here. The fact that there was a fairly complete skeleton shows, however, that this particular rat was not eaten. Snakes eat their prey whole, but the bones and hair are crushed into elongated pellets, rather like owl pellets but stretched. This rat must have starved or been diseased for it to have died intact."

Then Dumbledore felt around the crevices of the rough-hewn walls. "Yes, feel here, Harry, what do you make of this?"

"Definitely a magical barrier, but … it's one way isn't it?"

"Yes. The barrier acts as a trap, to maximize the opportunity for the basilisk to discover and eat any straying creature. It also would protect the Chamber from being revealed in case somehow a muggle dug through to the barrier – the muggle would enter but be unable to leave and report the discovery. Of course, with the anti-muggle enchantments around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, this has probably never been tested, but it shows the care with which Slytherin designed this place. He probably believed that the school would be overrun with muggles, since it was admitting those with muggle relatives."

"Do you reckon this would cover the entire chamber?" asked Harry.

"You are thinking of possible additional entrances?"

"Yes."

"I should think that the entire space is protected, but I would be surprised if your examination of it did not reveal other exits. Slytherin had to anticipate that he would not have access to the school. It was in anticipation of an eventual breakdown in the founder's relationships, after all, that the Chamber was prepared."

"Where I find a stretch of wall where the magic seems particularly strong, I'll see what I can do to work the enchantments on it. From what I've seen in here, parseltongue should do the trick."

"That definitely is the best place to start with any of the enchantments here, Harry. Slytherin believed that parseltongue was a sign of particular superiority among wizards."

"I bet that went down well with the other wizards."

Dumbledore smiled. "About as well as the muggles took to being told that wizards were superior because of the special powers they had. This reaction was, of course, encouraged by the secular and religious authorities of the day. It served as a distraction from the more immediate oppression of the common people, since the authorities often elicited the same hostility for claiming that they, as nobility and priests, were superior to their fellowman."

"Set them onto the wizards so they can go about their mischief, eh?"

"Exactly. It was quite effective, since the nobility and priests claimed divine appointment, while the wizards did not."

"That's pretty much the same strategy that wizard leaders have used – raising hatred of goblins so they could get away with stuff they otherwise wouldn't."

"Stirring up hatred to gain power is a common theme of history, and unfortunately, it is virtually never a one-way street. You get a few occasions where a group that is sufficiently lacking in power that it simply gets slaughtered or otherwise destroyed – Hitler against the Jews, the Turks against the Armenians, on some occasions, the policies of the Spanish and the British and their descendents against the American Indians were of that vein, Muslim conquerors have always pursued policies of triple taxation, degrading special laws, and enslavement against non-Muslim conquered peoples, if they did not just slaughter them outright. More often, it serves the politicians on both sides of a border to stir up animosity: the French versus the Germans, English vs. the Scots until the two joined, French vs. English, Israelis vs. the Philistines and now their descendents, well, the list goes on and on. That's barely scratching the surface."

"Is there a way to put an end to it?" asked Harry, as much to himself as Dumbledore.

"I'd be interested in any ideas. Those seeking political power have to get people to line up behind them, and they don't want to be held up to the standards of some positive idea – better from their standpoint to be able to claim success by attacking someone else."

"What about leaders that don't want power, but just to make things better?"

"Leaders like that are rare. There were those who wanted to make George Washington, the first president of the United States, a king: that land was blessed with a leader who could turn such an offer down. Mohandas Gandhi could no doubt have had great power in the new Indian republic, but he left statecraft to others. Politics is a rough business, and angels are seldom found in it and even rarer do they succeed."

"How bleak."

"It is my hope that the time will come when everyone grows up with a healthy sense of respect for their fellow beings so that they will cease to follow the politics of envy and hatred, but instead policies of cooperation and respect."

"That sounds ideal. Is there any real hope for it?" asked Harry.

Dumbledore just shrugged. "I'm afraid it's not just around the corner, but I believe humanity has progressed far already. At least from my perspective, I can see that there are many more leaders that seek cooperation amongst peoples than there were when my awareness of such things begins."


	12. The Curse of Ages

Chapter 12 The Curse of Ages

While they had been talking, Dobby was looking around. Suddenly he squealed and apparated by Harry's leg, then held onto it like a toddler with the arm not holding a torch. Harry could not miss the shivering.

"What is it, Dobby?" Harry asked, but Dobby would only point. Harry and Dumbledore pulled their wands and cautiously made their way over. They look through a hole in a pile of rubble that blocked their path and reached the ceiling, except where the hole was. Suddenly they saw the sinuous outlines of an enormous snake. Harry straightened up.

"Oh, that!' he said lightly. "I should have warned you, Dobby. There are dozens of shed basilisk skins around here. When we first came down here, we liked to have soiled ourselves when we came across this one. After we were distracted by that, Lockhart tried to attack us – that's when all this rock fell."

Having heard Harry's explanation, Dumbledore was feeling around the edges of the wall and ceiling where the rubble had fallen.

"Do you feel the magic here, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.

Harry moved his hands about. "Yes. There's that general surrounding charm on the walls and I think I feel a spell similar to that around the entrance in the loo, and … there's something else, very crude clumsy magic."

"Very good. That's what I feel, too. I think the crude magic is the backfired memory spell Lockhart attempted. He was quite capable with those, but of course, with a broken wand, he did not get his expected results."

Harry grinned. "It's a wonder Ron made it through that year at all."

"Or his teachers. It's good that he only really needed his wand in Charms and Transfiguration that year."

"And that exams were called off," agreed Harry, with a light laugh. "Look at that, Albus – the smoke from the torches gathers where the ceiling is broken, but it's not rising beyond a certain level. That must be the barrier."

"Yes. Good, Harry. It looks as though Lockhart's misfire was sufficient to disrupt the barrier and allow rock above to tumble in. I can't see far through there, but there appears to be some open space."

"Hmm," said Harry. "We're under the lake, I believe, but that doesn't seem to be water above the smoke. Say, remember the tunnel the Marauder's Map showed that started behind the large mirror on the fourth floor corridor. When Fred and George gave me the Map, they pointed it out and said it had collapsed the previous winter. You also said that connected to the tunnel Ron, Ginny and I explored two years ago, the one with the snake head opening on that tiny island in the lake. I wonder if that's it."

"Interesting. Are you saying that Lockhart's spell collapsed it as well?"

"The timing's not right – the other passage was already collapsed. But this could have been an additional portal for the basilisk to be let out. Perhaps the movement of the basilisk collapsed the tunnel. That would be near the time of the last two or three petrifications."

"If you would like to explore that other passage from the mirror, feel free. I would recommend you do not use parseltongue to test the barrier here, however, lest you allow the tunnel to collapse completely. Now, as to continuing – are you certain you and Miss Weasley crawled through that hole there?"

Harry grinned. "It's hard to believe how much smaller we both were back then. Rather than shift or pulverize rock, I think Dobby had better apparate us to the other side."

Harry walked over to the skin, where Dumbledore was already examining it. Dumbledore's wand was still out as he tried several spells on the skin.

"Impressive!" he observed, to himself as much as to Harry. Then continuing a bit louder, he said, "It seems to be as spell-proof as any creature's skin I know of, as well as making a fine heat shield. Is this the largest one, Harry?"

"Take that end – I'll need to see the size of it to know."

They grabbed opposite ends of it and pulled it out. It stretched to over 35 feet.

"No, this can't be the biggest," answered Harry. "There must be at least ten bigger than this, plus the one it died in." Dumbledore suddenly looked particularly pale, and Harry could have sworn his jaw was quivering.

Dumbledore sighed a bit, and then began rolling the skin up. When he was done, it made a roll the size of a very large sleeping bag and considerably wider. "Dobby, please take this to the bottom of the pipe and then catch up with us again. When we're done for the day, we'll take it to the school for further study."

They continued down the tunnel to the entrance marked by snakes. Harry was surprised at how close the door to the main chamber was – the first time he had come, he had been alone, in the dark but for his wand's meager light, and every step seemed a mile.

"This is the door I took," said Harry. "I remember the snakes. That's odd – these others are as dusty as the rest of the Chamber, but this one snake is completely clean."

Dobby shuddered audibly. "Those eyes scare Dobby – they are too much alive."

"Are you scared of snakes, Dobby?" asked Harry.

"Not regular ones, Harry," he replied. He had gotten more at ease calling Harry by just 'Harry' since he had been Harry's bodyguard two summers earlier. "And normally carved snakes are not a problem, but these are strange – the eyes seem alive. They seem to look into me."

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "They are disquieting. The magic around them is strong and it is not friendly. If they were not before, I am sure the enchantments of this place are now aware that it has been invaded."

Harry looked quizzically at the snakes. "They had the same effect on me the first time I was here. Now it is much less so – now the eyes seem more like they're sad, mournful even."

Dumbledore looked appraisingly over his half-moon glasses at Harry. After several seconds, he asked, "What led you to open this door and proceed this way, rather than continuing down the original tunnel?"

"I really don't know, Albus. It was instinct, just as when I stabbed the diary with the basilisk fang."

Dumbledore nodded. "Instinct has been a good guide for you. Well, despite the advice about the road less traveled, I think it is better that we follow the path you and Ginny took five years ago. So if you wouldn't mind …"

Harry hissed 'open up' at the snakes around the door. They shifted and the door swung open. The trio stepped through, Dobby clambering and the two wizards having to squeeze themselves through.

"This was an easier fit when I was twelve," said Harry with a chuckle.

"No doubt," said Dumbledore. "I find myself all the more amazed that you could come through all of this, particularly at such a young age."

Harry grinned. "It helped to be thick. I couldn't feel the dense layers of enchantments I can now feel about this place, and even though I expected a basilisk, I didn't know it would be as enormous as it turned out to be. I also didn't anticipate finding Voldemort."

"No one expects Voldemort."

"No one ever need do so again," said Harry.

"Yes, but don't kid yourself, Harry – he was just one man. Where his power and his evil came from, others may arise again."

"Well, that's really what you have in mind in working with me, isn't it? That I could carry on the watch and resistance to dark wizardry when the Ministry has not been able to deal with it?"

"Yes, Harry, that and to perhaps prevent the rise of such as he. Now, Harry, you seem to be quite cheerful, considering the gloom of this place."

"I don't find it gloomy, Albus. It's dark, but it has a certain serenity to it."

"I wish I could feel that way here. I am filled with an evil foreboding."

"There is a negative aspect here to be sure. But it is quiet and … it feels safe as well."

"N-not t-t-to m-me, Harry P-p-potter," shivered Dobby, grabbing Harry's leg like a toddler. "Look up to the top of those columns. They disappear in the dark, and yet I can feel dark magic over us. And this vague light that fills this place – it seems wrong and evil. The only light here should be that brought from above. Even the paving stones here make me wince."

"Are you going to be able to help me in here, Dobby?"

"Dobby will do his duties and wants to help Harry Potter," Dobby replied, "but Dobby hopes that the number of visits can be few and short."

"It will get easier, Dobby," reassured Harry, as Dumbledore gestured them to slowly proceed, as they surveyed what they could feel and sense about he place. "Albus, you mentioned an evil foreboding. Is that just a sense of the place, or is there something more?"

"Your instincts guide you well again, Harry," admitted Dumbledore. "Sometime after the split with the other Founders, Salazar Slytherin tried to convince the pureblood wizards to subjugate the muggles. He claimed that wizards were the natural rulers of the Earth and that even the muggles would be better off placed under spells to make them be productive, docile and obedient."

"Like robots?"

"Like house elves!" muttered Dobby angrily.

"Yes, indeed, Dobby," agreed Dumbledore. "Slytherin had just invented the Imperius Curse and used it to demonstrate how much more useful muggles – and all non-purebloods – would be when the purebloods directed all their activities. The other founders opposed his plans, saying that all humans, magical or not, were ensouled beings, entitled to the same freedom of thought and conscience as any other. He might have succeeded, except that too many wizards and witches began forcing those they were controlling to do very degrading and immoral things. The depravity of it became so shocking that it turned the great majority of sorcerers against the use of spells to control others. Imperius was added to the other two Unforgiveable Curses. A wizard war broke out, and most of those who had sided with Slytherin were killed or exiled. Before Slytherin left, reportedly for eastern Europe, he claimed to have placed a curse which would afflict the wizard world through all time, until his great Peace through submission was achieved. The curse came to be known among those who knew of it as the Curse of Ages."

"And he was someone who could have placed such a horrible curse, right?"

"Very much so, Harry."

"What form did the curse take?"

"That," Dumbledore began and then paused, "is not really known. His movements were traced as well as could be done, given the disruptions and deaths of the war, and places examined for traces of any such curse. Suspicion centered on his claimed Chamber of Secrets, but then, no one available had ever seen the Chamber and there were no confirmed openings of the Chamber until Myrtle's death."

"'_Confirmed_ openings' – so you suspect others."

Dumbledore shrugged. "Perhaps. I remember one of the things you said the Tom's 16-year-old self said was that you and he were probably the first parselmouths since Slytherin to be at Hogwarts. Well, that is known to be false. There have been parselmouths occasionally through the years. Grindelwald was one, as well."

"Grindelwald? He's mentioned on your famous wizard card!"

Dumbledore smiled. "I'm so glad you took note."

"I would have saved myself a lot of time if I had remembered _all_ the names on your card."

"Yes, you did have a time finding Flamel's name, didn't you? But then it was an excellent exercise in teamwork for you three to go searching."

"I always thought he was foreign – was he actually British."

"An immigrant from the Austro-Hungarian empire. He came to Hogsmeade in the late 1800s after one of the last great anti-sorcerer uprisings amongst the muggles in Europe. The eastern European wizards were not so far along as we were in hiding themselves from the muggles. He operated an export-import business in Hogsmeade and was reputed to be able to get quite a selection of contraband materials if one had the galleons to afford them."

"Well, I could say the same thing about Dung, but stopping his activities wouldn't get someone's name on a famous wizard card."

"No. In fact the Ministry was fully aware of his activities. So long as things didn't get out of hand – and contributions were made to the right interests – the Ministry has long been willing to avert its attention. It was around 1935 that he sold off his entire operation to Mr. Burkes, who eventually merged operations to make Borgin and Burkes. Then Grindelwald disappeared for several years, apparently gathering supporters throughout Britain and Europe. He never was the threat that Voldemort was to become, but I did have to become involved to finally eliminate Grindelwald himself. The various national Ministries took care of his supporters. I regret that I was distracted from keeping an eye on Riddle while I was hunting Grindelwald – I'm afraid that caused you to have the overly dramatic life you've led."

"Well, what's done is done. Grindelwald had to be dealt with, as did Voldemort. Too many good people have died."

"Precisely."

"So what has the result of the curse been?"

Dumbledore seemed very reluctant to speak. "Well, of course, very few have even heard of the curse – though it was even more ominous than the monster of the Chamber, it also was very vague, so it was easily forgotten. Those of us who make it our job to know such things, however, have not forgotten. The problem with hunting a vague curse is that it is so easy to blame every unfortunate event on the curse. Sometimes a tragedy is just an isolated event."

"Are there some that do not seem to be isolated?"

"There are plenty of recurrent unfortunate circumstances that might be part of a curse – many goblin rebellions, the various dark wizards who have vied for control, several werewolf and vampire uprisings, the very low birth rate of pureblood wizards, many magical accidents, the terrible run of Defense teachers Hogwarts has had – you could link any number of events and suspect that they are related to a curse."

"Can you eliminate any?"

"A few. The so-called Defense Against the Dark Arts jinx only started after Tom Riddle himself had applied for the job, soon after I had become headmaster. I felt it would be putting the fox in the henhouse to hire him, but after that we could only keep a defense teacher for a year at a time."

"Remus mentioned that you thought the Defense curse was over. Now I know why."

"Yes. He was concerned about taking the job this time until I laid it all out for him. I also don't think the various accidents that have killed excellent witches and wizards are related to each other. I certainly could be wrong, but they don't seem to be related. Miss Lovegood's mother had a taste for potions experiments with very potent ingredients, and it led to her death. Mr. Ollivander's father was always trying new magical substances in wands and more than once lost body parts when he put together unfortunate combinations; the last one was, well, his last attempt. Clovis Hagrid, Rubeus Hagrid's father, was very fond of breeding experiments. I believe this interest was as much of a reason for marriage to Rubeus's mother as anything else: certainly an erudite conversation was not part of the relationship, although she may have had other, erm, attractions. Anyway, he was killed in a breeding experiment. There have been many more. Does the curse make talented wizards take foolish risks? It's hard to say, but it doesn't seem dramatic enough."

"But you think the curse resides in the Chamber?"

It certainly would be a good location from which to place effects on anyone who went to or worked at Hogwarts, or who spent time in Hogsmeade."

"Pretty much everyone in the British wizarding world."

"And a fair proportion of non-British sorcerers who have business or holidays in Hogsmeade."

"Well, now that we are in here, shouldn't we disable the curse?"

"Ah, yes, Harry," said Dumbledore, with an uneasy smile. "All we have to do is find the toggle switch."

"I see. We still don't know much about it, do we?"

"Exactly. The curse may reside in an object, or the Chamber as a whole, or maybe in the basilisk. Or there may not be any curse at all."

"But you think there is, right?"

Dumbledore gave a sideways nod which acknowledged doubts. "Very few people believed there was a Chamber of Secrets or a monster either: after what you have seen, where would you place your bets?"

"I'll be very, very aware of any unusual traces of magic, but that's going to be hard in a place bristling with magic like this."

"Yes, certainly – the whole Chamber seems to be maintained and protected by magic."

"Any theories?"

"I suspect an object, but that does not narrow it at all, really. Those carved snakes at the entrance are clearly charmed with some form of magic, but it does not seem potent enough. Can you not feel that the magical presence gets stronger as we proceed?" Harry nodded thoughtfully. "The problem we may run into is that so much of the Chamber may be so highly charged with magic that the locus of the curse may not be distinct."

Very soon they had entered the largest portion of the Chamber, with the huge sculpture of Slytherin and the basilisk carcass. The stench was awful.

"I would have thought it would have rotted away more completely by now," said Harry, holding part of his robe over his mouth and nose.

"It's a very large carcass, Harry, and I suspect the intense magical fields around this area impede rotting. Dobby, when you come back down here with Harry, bring several large sealable bottles. We will want to study both intact and rotted flesh, whatever organs might remain, and the remnants of the eyes."

"Yes, sir."

"Over here is where I found Ginny, Albus."

"That's more important to you than the large blood stain near it, Harry?"

Harry looked down and nodded. "Yes. I didn't mind spilling a bit of blood – for a good cause - and after all, Fawkes healed me."

Then it was Dumbledore's turn to look down. In a second, he looked up and said, "Tell me again about how Tom operated the statue."

"He approached it and raised his arms like a supplicant, and said in parseltongue, 'Speak to me, O Salazar Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.' Then the mouth opened and the basilisk slithered out through it."

"I wonder if it needs such a subservient request as that, or if any parseltongue request would do."

"Shall I find out?"

"Not today. I'm afraid we are running out of time. You'll have other opportunities to explore the magic of this place. Just let me examine around it." Dumbledore approached the statue and examined the workmanship and placement.

"Any idea what's behind it?"

"1000 years of basilisk droppings?" said Harry, with a laugh. Dobby giggled as well, and even Dumbledore grinned.

"As good an answer as any. There has to have been a home for the basilisk – else why would it have stayed there?"

"But it can't have been confined there, Albus. We have come across several skins it had shed in various parts of the Chamber. If it was confined behind the statue until five years ago, even the short period 55 years ago when Tom Riddle opened the Chamber would not have allowed the opportunity for that many skins to have been shed."

"Good thinking, Harry. There must be another access the basilisk used, although for whatever reason it was available behind the statue when Tom sought it."

"He may have ordered it there before I arrived."

"Very possibly, he must have enjoyed the horror it caused you seeing the snake emerge from Slytherin's mouth. But many animals adopt particular small nooks as their homes for various reasons – dogs sleep near fires, rats choose confined places, cats like drawers, snakes go for caves and other crevices.

"Well, Harry, the time is getting late. I think we had best be getting back to the school. You should have enough to keep you busy for quite a number of trips down here. Try not to wear Dobby out too much, will you. He's a recent father, you know."

Harry smiled down at Dobby. "Ready to go, Dobby?"

Dobby nodded very enthusiastically. "Yes, sir, very much, Harry Potter."

"Then we are off," said Dumbledore. "If you don't mind, Harry, I'll point out areas I believe are of special interest, but please – this is your investigation. I am only your collaborator on this. Investigate where you feel uses your time down here best. It is important that you develop your own sense of such things."


	13. Quidditch Tryouts

Chapter 13 Quidditch Tryouts

The rest of the week went as well as could be expected. Harry and Dumbledore explored the rest of the castle and grounds, meeting up with other teachers or house elves when they had significant memories pertinent to a particular site which had not been saved in the haste of the second war with Voldemort. It was emotionally draining for Harry to relive so many experiences he had as a Hogwarts student, and yet it also seemed to help him put them all into context. Nonetheless, the broom ride out to Voldemort's island with Dobby, Snape and McGonagall was a welcome break from the emotionally charged process of dredging up all his memories.

Unfortunately, when he arrived at the island, Professor McGonagall produced the pensieve and several memory bottles. "My apologies, Potter," she said when Harry groaned, "but these memories are as important to the school and the magical world as any others, and more than most."

Harry proceeded with recalling, removing, duplicating and storing his memories of the trip to the island as Snape and McGonagall began releasing the consumed souls from the dementors and Dobby laid out a pleasant brunch. The long broom ride and the crisp North Sea air stimulated Harry's appetite, so he was very grateful to be able to tuck in to the remarkable repast.

After the brunch, Harry decided to explore the tiny house which had served as Voldemort's home and hideout for the past several years. It really was rather pointless, since he could recall all of Voldemort's memories whenever he chose to, so he knew what to expect: very little evidence of magic there – some potions ingredients, a self-stirring and self-heating cauldron, a wizard chess set, and a collection of Famous Wizard cards (the Dumbledore cards were gruesomely disfigured). There were a few non-magical trinkets – a mouth organ, a harmonica, a thimble and a rabbit's foot: he was surprised to note how dark the memories pertaining to these things were, and so he forced himself to think of other things. Harry had had enough of delving into Voldemort's darkest thoughts. Harry had preferred to be in the house to hearing the repeated casting of the killing curse and McGonagall's comforting and encouragement of Snape. He showed the things to Snape and McGonagall.

McGonagall waved her wand and all the things arranged themselves into a satchel she had conjured which was entirely too small by muggle means to hold them. "This will be of interest to the Ministry. The aurors and Unspeakables will study them first, and then they can be turned over to the historians and the Merlin Museum of Magical History."

"That makes sense, but why study them? I can already tell you that these things are no more magically endowed than similar things you might find in Diagon Alley: Voldemort would have memories of any spells placed on them."

"Yes, no doubt he would, but it is something the Ministry would want to confirm. Also things which have been kept too long around a wizard or witch often begin to take on some of his or her attributes. In a family environment, the effects are so smeared that the imprint is usually meaningless unless the thing is a constant personal object, but around loners, objects can get downright peculiar."

"I could see that happening – sort of an unintended wandless spell placed on an object."

Snape sneered and almost laughed. "It is more often compared to wolves marking territory."

Harry grinned. "I guess that describes it, too. Are we done here, then? The sun has set quite a bit already. I've been here at night – I would prefer not to be again."

"Just one last thing, Harry," said McGonagall. "When we are all on our brooms, you need to undo Voldemort's spells on the island, since your formerly-shared power is what created the protections. The island should be returned to its normal state now that it has otherwise been cleared of magic."

Harry smiled. "Like turning out the lights as you leave," he said. "I'd be happy to."

For the weekend it was back with the Weasleys. On Saturday, Harry was taken by Ron and Ginny to visit Hermione at her new apartment, a flat in a building near Gringotts with office space in the bottom floors. The offices were used by the goblins for Gringotts' business. It was fairly small, but it suited Hermione, and the goblins had offered to magically enlarge it whenever she needed more space. She had been recognized as a good friend of Harry's, so they gave her a particularly good deal, and she liked the fact that it was nearly as secure as Gringotts itself.

On Sunday, the Daily Prophet had the first of their articles on the second war with Voldemort. It focused on the training for the battle and the scheme of appearing to be cursed into fractiousness to draw Voldemort's forces out. Harry and the Weasleys all enjoyed reading about it as they dawdled over breakfast, now that it was in retrospect. Nearly all of the team leaders were mentioned, and there was a special side piece about Neville, his tragic loss of his parents in the first war, and his remarkable development and contributions in the Battle of the Forbidden Forest.

"There's something missing here," observed Ginny, after she had read most of the articles about the training.

Harry was not as far into the article, as he had lingered on the background information about the Longbottom family. Having healed Neville's parents from the severe mental damage they suffered at the hands of Death Eaters in the first war, he felt a special affinity. "What's that?" he asked carelessly.

"You, Harry," she replied.

Mr. Weasley picked up his copy again and started glancing through it. "That's odd – with all the other names mentioned, I figured they had gotten all the leadership at least."

"No, she's right, Dad," said Harry. "I don't see Hermione or Dean mentioned either. In fact, I think …" he said hesitantly as he scanned quickly through the article, "yeah, there's no mention of any muggleborn leaders."

"Well, that's odd," said Mr. Weasley. "I'm sure the reporter was given all the names. I'm sure it's just a coincidence."

Ron shook his head. "I hope you're right, Dad. Have you gotten to the article about the fake-curse strategy, yet?"

"No, Ron, I haven't. What's up with that?"

"It reports how because of the development of the students as fighters, we had to have a way to get V-Voldemort to commit his forces, so we came up with the fake curse plan. It gives you lots of credit, and Professor Snape, too."

"Well, I don't know how much I contributed, but the Minister gets both credit and blame. So what's the problem?"

"Well, it talks about how the Death Eaters 'had a source inside Hogwarts' that could tip them off as to the strength of the students."

"'Had a source!'" repeated Harry indignantly. "I have Voldemort rummaging in my brain for the whole year and I'm just 'a source'?"

"That makes it sound like Draco or someone else was sending owls out," said Ginny. "There's no mention of Harry! After all we put him through to carry that off, and there's no mention at all! Dad, are you sure they knew how the whole thing was done?"

Arthur nodded thoughtfully. "I'm certain of that. Maybe they thought that was a bit too much of a private matter for Harry."

"They haven't shown any respect for privacy previously," said Harry, with a hint of a scowl on his face. "Mum, do you need any help with the dishes?"

"No, Harry. Kreacher is very attentive to the remaining Black family things here."

"I'll just take my tea to the library then."

Harry was slouched in a leather arm chair staring out the library window at the low grey clouds outside when Ginny opened the door.

"Knock, knock," she said. "Mind some company?"

Harry leaned his head backwards over the arm of the chair and smiled at her. "I'm always happy for you to be around."

Ginny stretched out on the floor in front of the chair with her feet toward the window and her head leaned up against the chair Harry was sitting in. He let a hand droop down to aimlessly stroke the side of her head and neck.

"Does it upset you?" she asked after several minutes.

"Hm, I'm not sure. Maybe it's just the way it was edited, or the focus of the stories."

"Everything in the strategy depended on Voldemort seeing into the school through _your_ eyes, and you think the editor considered that unimportant?"

"Well, maybe. It is a little … esoteric."

"And I suppose you were irrelevant to the training, is that it?"

"Well, they had to make a story – people have already heard too much about me."

"They've heard many things, but not as much as they should."

"Spoken like my girlfriend," said Harry.

"Don't make me regret it, Potter. Yeah, I'm keen on you, but that doesn't mean I can't be objective. You trained everyone and there is not a person who was in Hogwarts last year that doesn't owe their life to you – we saw that at the feast, remember?"

"Sure, right, but that came out in the very first articles that were printed. Now it's time to give credit to all the others who took part."

"To the point that you don't even get a mention?"

"Well, that was a bit much."

"Thank you for recognizing that. It's got to bug you some," said Ginny, as she reached an arm up to tickle Harry's calf a bit.

"Okay, yeah, that's why I came in here. I didn't want to sound full of myself, but it seems like a bit of recognition would be in order. You know, 'training was overseen by Harry Potter,' that sort of thing."

"Of course, Harry. I made sure my name was in there, too, although I was kind of glad there was no mention of any details of our relationship."

Harry laughed. "That'd be hard to do without mentioning me, wouldn't it – 'Ginny Weasley snogged for hours with, well, whoever showed up.' That'd raise some eyebrows."

Ginny giggled. "You're silly."

"Speaking of which," said Harry, slithering down from the chair toward her face, "I'm terribly far behind on my snogging quota."

"Are you now?" she said tittering as he nuzzled at the nape of her neck. "Since when is there a quota?"

"I thought you read the fine print when you signed up."

"Must have missed that part – too late to renegotiate now, huh?"

"Do you want to?"

Ginny gasped as Harry nibbled her earlobe and lightly grazed the back of her neck with his fingers. She stretched her arms around to cradle his torso against hers, and she never did reply.

Sunday evening after dinner, Harry and Ron packed up clothes for a week and headed off to quidditch tryout camp. Tryouts involved various combinations of scrimmage matches and individual position work in which they got specialized instruction on the strategies of the professional version of quidditch. There were about forty hopefuls there, mostly people who had been to tryout camp previously and been passed over. Harry was a bit surprised to see Draco Malfoy and Cho Chang among the seeker hopefuls. Harry and Ron shared a room, but they were so worn out by the long hours that the only time they really had to talk was during meals.

Camp finished with a big breakfast Saturday morning in which it was announced that the procedure was for everyone to be visited by a representative of the league who would present the various offers of the various teams. Harry and Ron hoped it would be soon, since they were leaving the next week for their promotional tour. When it came time to leave, they both realized that for once, having spent so much time on brooms the past week, they had gotten their fill of flying. As soon as tryouts let out, they flew to the nearest point of Wales and apparated in several jumps the rest of the way back to London.

At dinner, all the Weasleys gathered as well as Fleur and Hermione. Mrs. Weasley was insistent that they all gather before they scattered. Charlie was returning to Romania the next week, Bill was going back to Egypt after a check-up at St. Mungo's, and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were starting the promotional tour. Arthur even insisted on putting off a meeting with his Haitian counterpart so that he could join the whole family. Molly had Kreacher prepare the formal dining room for the large feast.

Talk ebbed and flowed and swirled around the table. Occasionally Harry found a few moments in which he was not talking with anyone and just observed the chaos, laughter, jokes, reminiscences of meals gone by, chatter, plans – all manner of family interaction. Harry couldn't stop himself grinning at the splendor of it all. He felt Ginny's hand slip into his and give it a squeeze. He glanced over, and she looked through several loose strands of hair at him, smiling warmly. Harry had to act like he was wiping his mouth to sneak a wipe around his moistening eyes.

Ginny leaned close to him. "You aren't fooling me, Potter."

Harry glanced around the table. "Do you think …, someday, …?" He hesitated.

"What?" she goaded him coyly.

"Do you think maybe we might have a family like this?"

"We have one – they're right here."

"You know what I mean."

"Who knows what the future will hold? But it's the way I've always wanted it to be, and I've never known anyone I'd rather it be with." She gazed into his eyes, and he gazed fondly back.

Suddenly their reverie was broken by a dinner roll knocking Harry's glasses off.

"Break it up, you two," said Fred, laughing. "You'll have all the time together you need on the tour and at Hogwarts."

"Don't encourage them too much," said Molly. "They should take their time. And Fred, no throwing food at the table."

"Sorry, Mum, but it was better than shooting water at him, and I've been wanting to hear about the tryouts."

"Yeah, Harry, Ron," said Charlie. "I had considered trying out myself back in the day, before I settled on dragons. What was it like?"

"It was loads of fun, really," said Ron. "We got to run lots of scrimmages, and they showed us lots of positioning strategies we hadn't learned at Hogwarts. Bicknell, the Puddlemere keeper, showed us how to do the Double Eight Loop without getting sick or losing our bearings."

"Any troubles with self-consciousness, Ron?" asked George.

Ron reluctantly acknowledged that he had. "I was making some errors I shouldn't have. I was pretty nervous."

"But then they tried him out as a beater," prompted Harry.

"Really?" said Bill. "You never used to play beater even in our family games."

"Yeah, most of the beaters are stockier," answered Ron, nodding his head toward Fred and George, "but they gave me a go on both beater and chaser. They said I was bulking up enough for beater and that my long arms would be good for quaffle-handling."

"Oh, Ronny," said Molly. "It sounds like they really wanted to give you every opportunity to find a position that would work for you."

"Yeah, they really seemed to. I don't mind what position I play: it would just be great to be able to keep playing."

"And earning some gold while doing it," said Hermione, playfully nudging him.

Ron grinned. "You know me too well, Hermione. I'm more than ready to feel self-sufficient and to not have to buy second-hand all the time."

"Has it been that bad then, Ron?" asked Arthur, with concern. "We did the best we could."

"Oh, Dad, I know you did, and we always had what we needed. I'm really not criticizing. It's just, well, it would be good, …"

"Financial security and a bit of a cushion are a big relief," finished Arthur for him. "Your mother and I have felt the same thing since I became Acting Minister. We were able to pay off some debts, get some nicer clothes, put some galleons in our vault. It's a relief."

"Exactly, Dad," agreed Ron.

"How about you, Harry? How were your tryouts?" asked Molly.

"Not quite as varied as Ron's, but interesting anyway. There were only four of us trying out for seeker – Cho Chang, some guy about 25 or so who's tried out seven or eight times, Draco Malfoy and me."

"Malfoy!" growled George. "What's that polecat doing actually looking for a job?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe he just wants to play? I don't really _need _the money either."

"No, but it's not just that for young Mr. Malfoy," said Arthur.

"How's that, Dad?" asked Ginny. "I thought they were filthy rich."

"That's the way to say, it, sweetheart, they _were_. With the change of heart Harry produced in Lucius Malfoy when he healed him, Lucius has been confessing to all sorts of things – things that would make your skin crawl. We've had to put him under special protection because he's ratting out all of the Death Eaters and others he had been up to no good with."

"That's great, Mr. Weasley," said Hermione. "It might be hard to get all the evidence needed to convict the surviving supporters of Voldemort without an inside witness, but what has that got to do with Draco needing the money."

"Forfeitures and fines. Wizard law provides for various punishments for various crimes: fines, forfeitures, Azkaban, wand loss, all sorts of things. Before Lucius was a tenth of the way into his confessions, the crimes he had admitted to required the forfeiture of the entire Malfoy fortune. The Ministry has taken it all. We'd be housing prisoners in Malfoy Manor right now except we don't trust that we can get all the dangerous dark magic objects out of there that they might do mischief with. If we can clear it all out and clean it up, it might be made the official residence of the Minister. Then Harry could have his house back."

"I like it the way it is – busy with all of you," said Harry.

"Be that as it may," said Arthur, "we can't use your house forever. If nothing else, I won't be Minister forever."

"So Draco is stone broke," marveled Fred.

"And homeless?" added George hopefully.

"No," replied Arthur, "and it is not good to revel in the misfortune of others, boys."

"They would have, if the war had gone the other way," sneered George.

Molly fixed him with her eyes. "And don't you want to be a better person than … that sort?"

George nodded sheepishly. "Yes, Mum, now that you put it that way."

"Anyway, he's not homeless" continued Arthur. "His mother had an endowment from the Blacks when she married. Lucius made sure she kept out of any Death Eater activities so that she would be insulated if anything happened. Her property included a smaller house they used on holiday and other occasions, as well as a decent amount of gold and investments – about what Sirius got through his Uncle Alphard."

"Wow," said Harry, "that's no small sum, well, unless of course you're used to living like the Malfoys did."

"Still, I imagine Draco Malfoy is feeling like he needs to be self-supporting," said Arthur. "It's one thing to live off the family fortune when you are the heir of an old blood name – it's quite another to live off your mother's dowry. So, Harry, what were the tryouts like for keepers?"

"They showed us various dives, swoops, turns, stuff like that. Frankly a good many of the things they showed us were more showy than useful."

"Well, of course, Harry," said Charlie. "That's one reason I didn't go pro. It's entertainment. The seeker doesn't just fly in circles half a mile up – he has to put on a show. I wasn't up for it."

"Harry?" said Ginny, putting a hand on his arm, "I know how seriously you take quidditch. Are you going to be able to do things just for the crowds? I won't think less of you either way."

Fred started to pantomime gagging until she started to put her hand toward her wand and grinned wickedly toward him.

"I sort of see the point. I reckon some flashy maneuvers are okay – so long as we also get to do some serious seeking. I kind of hoped to try out for the British National team for the World Cup as well – I'd hate to get rusty by not really trying for the snitch."

Just then a screech owl came swooping in and presented itself to Ron. He took the note off its leg and gave the owl a bit of beef. The owl waited patiently.

"Hey, it's Wood," said Ron excitedly. "He's drawn the duty of presenting the teams' offers to the two of us. He wants us to reply if we can meet him at 10 at The Leaky Cauldron."

Ron and Harry looked inquiringly at Molly. She nodded. "Tell him you can make it – Bill and Charlie and Fleur were going by then anyway, and your father has to get back to the Ministry." She added the last with a heavy, lonesome sigh.

Ron started scribbling a reply back.

Hermione spoke up. "Take Fred and George with you."

"Why, Hermione? They saw Wood often enough during training sessions last year. It's not like we need a chance to reminisce – this'll be doing business."

Fred was grinning slyly and nodding with approval at Hermione. "That's just it, little bro, Hermione understands. You want to find something in a library or brew potions, take Hermione. If you're in a fight, take Harry. Got to deal with dragons, take Charlie. But if you're going to cut a deal, you take George and me."

"I thought they'd just present offers," said Harry.

"Oh, they will, but that's just their opening position. You cut a deal on the Wizard Cards last year, didn't you? They bargained because they were going to make a bundle off of your name and likeness. And we bargained to get to host the kick-off. Business means bargaining."

"Fred's right, Ron," said Molly. "Don't be afraid to accept help from your brothers. You've never had much money before and you're likely to just accept the first offer they make. They'll help you a lot."

"Well, if he doesn't want the help, I'll take it," said Harry. "I did pretty well with the cards, but there are more issues involved in this. I want to make sure training can be adjusted to my school duties and see about playing time."

"Right, then," said Ron, "We'll all go. I'll learn from the masters."

"That's the way," said George.


	14. Making the Team

Chapter 14 Making the Team

Neither Harry nor Ron knew what to expect in The Leaky Cauldron at 10 p.m. The times they had spent nights in the rooms upstairs, they had been required by either Mr. and Mrs. Weasley or Dumbledore to be in their rooms after 9 p.m. But they were much younger then and far less capable of protecting themselves if need be. It wasn't that they expected to have to fight, but one could not be too sure, especially in an establishment that attracted such a diverse, and sometimes dodgy, collection of magical beings. The twins didn't help.

"Oh, this will be fun," began Fred, as they started out. "The Cauldron's a madhouse after the family types are gone."

"Fred, remember the vampires we met that night?" asked George.

"V-v-vampires?" stuttered Ron. "What were they doing at Diagon Alley?"

The twins smiled smugly at having rattled Ron. "Same as most, dear brother," replied George. "They were traveling and needed a place to stay. We had stopped in for a bite – ooh, poor choice of words when discussing vampires, I reckon – anyway, it was after the shop was closed and we had our projects settled for the night. The vampires had just finished their sleep and checked out but were looking for a meal before traveling."

"Yeah," continued Fred, "Tom was out of fresh blood, and we found them eying a family of goblins we knew from Gringotts hungrily. Say what else you will about us, we take care of our friends. Besides, we saw a business opportunity."

"Ah, you mean gold?" asked Harry. "I've heard vampires are rich."

"Yeah, well, like wizards, some are, but most just get by," answered Fred. "They really aren't very ambitious, but then they don't need much. It's hard for them to do most jobs or do business with the larger magical community because they have to sleep during the day. They're worse than the goblins about daylight – a goblin can work in the day if he keeps in shade, the deeper the better, but vampires can't take it at all."

"Yeah, okay," said Ron, "then what did you want from the vampires?"

"Urine," said George. "Vampire urine has a lot of really useful properties we can use in several of our products."

"Eesh!" cringed Harry. "You'll warn us which ones, right?"

"Too late," said Fred mischievously, then laughing at Ron and Harry's wide-eyed concern. "Relax, it's not things you eat. We use it to treat parchment, cloth and wood to get special effects – usually to make them disappear in daylight, really useful for smuggling and other surreptitious activities."

"That means 'sneaky,' Ron," added George condescendingly.

"I know, you git," he snarled. "Cripes, I organized the student army, devised the battlefield strategy, led the broom squadrons, and dueled Lestrange. What's a guy got to do to get a bit of respect?"

Harry and the twins grinned at his frustration.

"Forget it, Ron," said Fred. "That's what family's for – to make sure you don't get too full of yourself."

"Oh, great!" grumbled Ron.

"Ron, I think you'll be seeing tonight that others are willing to pat you on the head for what you've done – you need us to get your feet back on the ground," said George.

"So what happened with the vampires?" asked Harry.

"Oh, I got Mundungus Fletcher while Fred got our bloodletting kit …" began George.

"Yes, of course," said Ron, "Why am I not surprised you two would have such a thing?"

"It comes in handy to have the right equipment for certain jobs. So Dung rounded up some buddies of his who will do most anything for the right inducement and we had a regular feast for the vampires within an hour. We took care of Dung's cohort, and an hour later, the vampires left a few jars of what we wanted from them."

"What a lovely story," said Ron.

By then they had arrived at The Leaky Cauldron. The tables seemed to be all filled, although Harry could not be sure through the clouds of variously coloured smokes and fumes that hovered about the various tables and booths.

"Harry! Weasleys! Welcome," called the barman-owner Tom. "All our tables are full, bless the ending of the war, can I get you a booth, or will you have some seats here at the bar?"

"Actually, Tom," said George, "we're meeting Oliver Wood here. Is he here yet?"

"Yes, he and Madam Sneed have taken a booth in the back."

George and Fred looked at each other. "Excellent!" they said together.

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Wood is a player – not a wheeler-dealer player, but a quidditch player. He's a nice guy and smart, but he's no shark. The league wouldn't send him with negotiating authority. They want him to present the offers because of his personal relationship with you two, but he'll have no real authority beyond that."

"Yeah, the fact that Sneed is here means they are ready to negotiate tonight. They don't want to have you two go off on your tour without a deal. We've dealt with her before – we supply a number of concessions products for the league. She's tough but she knows not to try to work people down to their last knut when she'll have to negotiate with them again – it makes for bad blood and contentious negotiations in the future. She knows you only really screw your opposite over when you're sure you'll never see them again, and they won't be spreading the word that you can't be trusted."

"There's ethics in negotiating?" asked Ron. "I always had the impression that you just did everything you could to get whatever you can."

"Yeah, that's the reputation, isn't it? Most people, at least in our experience, are more ethical than that, just as a matter of upbringing, or at least long-term good business sense. Business runs on having a fair amount of trust."

"Really?" asked Ron incredulously.

"Even among muggles," confirmed Harry. "My uncle was certainly no saint, but when he cut a deal, he would never try to cheat anyone. When he made a deal for a certain number of drills to be delivered at a certain time, he made sure they could be delivered. If some of them were not up to quality, he got them replaced immediately. He didn't want to, so he had quality control to make sure the drills were good. But the fact that he always made good on the deals he made convinced his customers he was reliable and good to do business with. That way the first deal with a customer was not the last."

"That's the idea," said George. "Most of ethics is really self-interest in the long-run. You just have to take a long enough view on what's in your interest."

"Precisely, Mr. Weasley," said Tom. "We get most of our spirits from a warehouser, since we don't have space on premises for more than a week or so's supply. When we have gotten a bad batch of something from them they take it right back and make good on it. Not only is it the right thing to do, but if they didn't, we would find another supplier. Of course, when they have to take product back, they take the matter up with their source, and their supplier makes good on the deal, or risk losing the business."

"There are always a few bad eggs, though," said Fred.

"Yes, our blood suppliers are among the worst," agreed Tom. "I can't tell what I'm getting, so long as it is red. It's not as if I'm going to taste it or would know the difference if I did. But vampires expect human, goblin, or troll blood, as they may order, but I've had suppliers pass off blood from pigs, dogs, nifflers or hippogriffs. The problem is that there aren't many blood suppliers – it's not that easy to get and requires special handling. We're pretty much at their mercy if we're going to have blood available at all."

"Well, we had better get down to business," said George.

"Right you are, Mr. Weasley," said Tom. "I'll show you over. Will you be having any refreshments?"

Ron's eyes lit up and he began eying the bottles of colorful liquids behind the bar, but before he could speak, George replied, "We're doing business. We'll just have a pot of that jasmine-infused Chinese tea we had a couple of weeks ago."

"Very good, sir. Mr. Wood and Madam Sneed are just over here."

Fred and George pushed Harry and Ron out ahead of them.

"George, what gives? We're at the Leaky Cauldron – why not have some spirits?"

"Ron, we're here to do business. This is going to be your career for at least the next year, hopefully quite a few. We all need our wits about us. NEVER have more than one pint of butterbeer when doing anything serious, whether it's negotiating, playing quidditch, or doing magic. For that matter, never have more than one pint at a time, except at your own home or the home of a friend you can stay with. There are dangers enough all around, without using spirits to get stupid."

Fred stopped Ron and turned him around, looking as serious as Harry had ever seen him. "Promise us that you'll follow that advice, Ron. More than a few good people have screwed up their lives royally with booze."

"But …" Ron looked bewildered, "I thought that was how people went about to have fun?"

"It's fun when nothing bad happens," said Fred, "but too easily bad things happen. And even if nothing dramatic occurs, trying to find your fun through drink or drugs _always_ leads to ruin if you don't turn away soon enough. Understand?"

Yeah, sure."

"Promise?" added George.

"Yeah, sure, I promise," said Ron timidly.

Then Fred grabbed Harry's shoulder. "You, too?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, of course. The only time I've had firewhiskey, one small glass was all I wanted."

"Yeah, good, but sometimes, fools get to making themselves drink more than they have a taste for, thinking that they want to get that 'special feeling.' Understand?"

"Yeah, George. Absolutely. One is good and that's enough."

"Well said, Coach."

As they steered around a corner, they found Oliver Wood in close conversation with a precise-looking witch somewhat older than Molly Weasley, but in no way seeming physically limited by age.

"Wood!" Harry and Ron called. "I hope we're not interrupting," added Harry.

"Potter, Weasley," greeted Wood. "Of course not, you're why we're here. I see you brought back-ups," he added nodding toward Fred and George.

"As did you," said Ron.

"Good point. We almost always do better getting multiple views when we can. No time for that in the heat of a game or a battle, but in working out the terms of a deal, we can and should have assistance. Let me make introductions. Madam Sneed, this is Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Fred and George Weasley – I'll let them identify which is which. Gentlemen, this is Madam Gunilla Sneed."

They smiled and said their greetings. There were no handshakes as Madam Sneed did not extend her hand. "Lovely to meet all of you valiant and distinguished gentlemen. We all have quite a debt of gratitude to you for your contributions in the war."

"As if we had much of a choice," observed Harry archly.

"There are always choices, even if some of them seem unthinkable."

"Well, then, how about you all have a seat here with us and we'll get started," said Wood. Then he addressed Harry and Ron. "Of course, we asked both of you here because one or more team of the league would like to sign you up. Madam Sneed knows what all of the teams' positions are, what demands they make of their players, and what accommodations for your concerns they are willing to make. We're going to try to work out the best fit of player to team."

"Oh. Harry and I had rather hoped that we could be on the same team," said Ron.

"Well, perhaps that's a possibility," replied Wood, "but if it's a deal-breaker, then you both may have to accept a considerably reduced salary."

"Everything's negotiable, isn't it?" said Fred pointedly.

"Of course," said Madam Sneed, raising an eyebrow, "but at some point no deal can be reached."

Harry and Ron both looked at each other with some confusion.

Fred cocked his head knowingly. "And that is not something that _either _side wants."

"Certainly," she replied.

"Well, let's get down to it then," said Wood. "You both did splendidly at trials. Ron, you haven't played on teams as long as Harry has, so you know you have some polishing of technique to do. Harry, you've been brilliant since you first joined my team."

"Yes, but let's be realistic," interposed Madam Sneed. "Seeker is quite a limited position, with many specialists already under contract, and Mr. Potter hasn't any sort of a track record in any other position."

"'Limited position,' my arse!" exclaimed Ron. "A team on the field has as many seekers as keepers, and the pro teams usually keep three or four seekers on the roster, 'cause they get injured so often! They generally only keep 2 keepers."

"Calm down, Ron," said George, although clearly not entirely calm himself. "Harry wouldn't have been asked to come here if he wasn't wanted."

"Of course not," said Wood. "Harry, several teams had no openings for a seeker, but we have offers here from both the Magpies and Puddlemere United."

With that, Wood handed a couple of envelopes to Harry. Fred and George were crowded at either shoulder to look as Harry opened them. Harry couldn't believe his eyes when he saw offers of 22,000.00 galleons from the Magpies and Puddlemere United, two of the most successful teams in the League. He knew his vault contained much more, but this was an annual salary and he had never figured to ever earn that much. The only figures he could really compare it to were his salary at Hogwarts, 2,000 galleons; the starting salary for new aurors, which was 3,000.00 galleons; and the salary of the Minister of Magic, which had been published when Mr. Weasley was formally voted in by the Wizengamot, which was 12,000 galleons.

"This is outrageous!" shouted George, no longer maintaining composure. "This would make him the lowest paid seeker in the league!"

"Too right, and he's the best seeker in all Britain, maybe the world," added Fred.

Harry had not been prepared for this reaction, but he quickly tried to compose himself into a look of similar outrage.

"I'm sure there is room to negotiate," Wood quickly added.

Madam Sneed smiled coolly. "Perhaps a bit, but with so few openings, the demand is just not so great."

Fred glowered at them. "Yeah, right, well let's see what you have for Ron."

"Ah, yes," said Wood, with visible relief, as he pulled out a considerable stack of envelopes. "Ron being larger and having done well at both multiple positions, as well as there being more openings, more teams had an interest."

Harry joined Fred and George in looking in as Ron opened his stack of envelopes. Harry found himself unable to speak as he saw the range of offers, the lowest of which was 45,000 galleons per year and the greatest was 70,000 galleons per year from Ron's beloved Chudley Cannons. After a few minutes of the four of them comparing offers and requirements, Wood excused himself to go to the loo. Fred decided that this was a good time for him to go to the loo as well, and dragged Harry along.

Fred made sure that Wood went into the loo and then whispered urgently to Harry. "Harry, we're going to pump him for information. Can you practice legilemency without him knowing it?"

"I think so."

"Great. Then I'll just put a temporary anti-apparation charm on the loo, so he can't pop off. Let me do the talking, okay."

They edged through the door and checked the restroom for others while they waited for Wood to come out of the stall. As he was washing his hands, Fred leaned against the opposite wall. "Wood, can we talk?"

"Of course, Weasley. About what?"

"Oh, runespoors or, maybe, what's going on with the offers."

"Not too bad for Ron, eh? Between you and me and Potter, there's a bit more room even on those, but don't let Sneed know I said so."

"We figured as much – you never lead with your best offer. Why're the Cannons so much higher than the others?"

"Oh, well, there's a few things going on with that. The Cannons are in a re-building mode, for one thing." Harry could see Wood was hiding something.

"They've been in re-building mode for over 45 years. Come on, Wood!" prodded Fred.

"Yeah, well, they really like that Ron can handle all the positions but seeker. He's not the best at any of them, but he's got a lot of talent and looks good out there at all of them." Harry could tell Wood was still hiding something.

"Harry?" asked Fred.

"I can't help but think that's not enough," said Harry, hiding that he was using his powers.

"Yeah, Wood, most players at positions other than seeker can play the others adequately, especially if they're tall and strong."

"Well …" started Wood, who glanced around as if he was concerned Madam Sneed might be hiding around the area, "They want him but they're concerned he might not want to be teammates with the new seeker they signed."

"Not Malfoy!" shouted Harry.

"Shh, Harry, Sneed will interrupt if she hears you!" scolded Fred.

Wood looked abashed. "Yes, Harry, Malfoy. Flint and Sneed got him signed three days ago. See, the thing is, he looks fabulous out there. I mean, I don't go for blokes, but even I could see what a draw he would be for the witches. He flies so gracefully and his hair flows in the wind rakishly."

"But he doesn't catch the snitch a tenth as well as Harry!" hissed Fred angrily.

"Yeah, well, you know, that's not nearly as important in the pro game as you might have assumed. It's like this – professional sport is the business of entertainment. That is, it provides entertainment to support a business enterprise. What happens when the snitch is caught?"

"The game is over and the seeker's team gets 150 points," answered Harry, mystified at the question, which Wood obviously knew the answer to.

"Right. And what do people do when the game is over?"

"They go home, or to bars, or … whatever," Harry answered again.

"We only need the first part – they go! If they go, they aren't buying concessions and souvenirs. They aren't talking and cheering and avoiding their problems at home for a mindless interlude. A pint of butterbeer is a sickle at most bars, but at the quidditch matches, it's half a galleon, but people pay it while watching the games, but they can only watch a game while a game is going on. And worst of all, they are no longer being entertained when the game is over, so if they have been to a game which ended very quickly, they aren't as likely to spend the money to come to another game. Harry, what's the quickest you have ever caught a snitch?"

"Erm, under five minutes."

"At Hogwarts or the World Cup tournament, that's beautiful – I'd be so excited, I'd kiss you full on the lips."

"Please don't."

"Just an expression. In League play, that's a disaster. The break-even time for even the lowest-payroll team, Wigtown, is an hour and a half. Fred, have you even heard of a pro game taking less than an hour and a half?"

"No," replied Fred doubtfully.

"Did you think that was just a remarkable run of luck? Did you ever wonder why there had never been any seeker who caught the snitch sooner, even by some fool luck?"

Harry peered at him. "It's fixed?"

"No," said Wood hurriedly. "Not exactly. The snitch is made totally uncatchable for the beginning of the game. There are various ways – it can go out of the playing space, invisibility, hyperactivity, all sorts of things – it's always at least an hour and a half. During that time, the seekers fake it: they act like they are looking, participate in goal-scoring by blocking opponents, and stage spectacular chases and dives of imaginary snitches. Everyone just assumes they actually see the snitch and even with Omnioculars it's impossible to be sure they haven't. Even if on the odd occasion, someone is certain the snitch is not there, it's assumed that one of the seekers is engaging in some ploy to assist scoring or ditch the other seeker. The seekers are signaled when the snitch has returned to normal state, so they can start seeking for real. From there on, it's all played straight."

"Well, I'll be," said Fred. "I never knew."

"You're not supposed to. If it was anybody but Harry, I wouldn't have told, but we all owe Harry at least that much."

"Okay, so what does this have to do with preferring Malfoy over Harry?"

"The teams perceived Malfoy would put more people in the seats, especially witches. His long white hair looks great from a distance, he has that bad-boy swagger that turns witches on, and he's not over-exposed."

"Well, I can respect the bottom line," said Fred, "but you know, the wizarding world owes Harry a heck of a lot."

"No doubt," said Wood. "You'll never hear me say otherwise. People are fickle. Harry was the hero from the war, but the war is over and people want to forget the terror of that time. Polls and surveys were taken, and while Harry still has a lot of respect, people are a bit tired of him."

"Until some other dark wizard that the aurors can't handle rises up, and then they'll want _me_ to fix it again."

"I know," Wood acknowledged. "It's a matter of 'what can you do for me now?' They don't need a miracle worker and savior now, so they aren't interested in you. Harry, I'm with you on this, and if some dark wizard should start to make trouble, just give me the word and I'll be there. But right now, we're talking about what the League wants to field, and the League wants to field whoever will sell tickets and concessions."

Fred shook his head sadly, until Harry peered into Wood's eyes and said, "Come on, Wood, be straight with us. That's not the whole story."

Wood stared sternly back. "I didn't know you could do that."

"I usually suppress it, particularly around friends, but … we suspected something was up that you didn't want to tell us."

"Alright then," relented Wood. "Most of the teams don't want you because of your heritage."

"My … I hope you mean the Voldemort connection!"

"No, you know I mean your blood."

Fred could barely contain himself. He growled dangerously, "Those pompous, arrogant, worthless trolls owe their lives to Harry, and they won't even let him play on their bloody quidditch team? Because he's a 'half-blood'?"

Harry appreciated Fred's anger, and enjoyed the way it made Wood quail as well.

"It's about filling the seats, Fred. Most teams only take full-bloods. Truth be told, nearly all the quidditch players are full-blood for at least three generations back. Most athletes with muggle relatives prefer to play muggle games, so they can share what they do with family. Harry's an oddity, being such a natural at it. Just about all of the quidditch fans are full-bloods and many won't be fans of teams with mixed-bloods. Three generations seems to be the minimum amount of dilution of muggle blood they'll accept, at least if a player makes the effort to pass for full-blood."

"This is just incredible," said Harry, disgustedly. "So are Montrose and Puddlemere the only teams that will take 'scum' like me."

Wood's mouth opened and closed like he wanted to upbraid Harry. He pled instead. "Please don't talk that way, Potter. You know most of us don't think that way. It's just that enough do to force the teams to do this. Basically you're right, Puddlemere and Montrose are the only teams that take mixed-blood wizards. The Harpies take mixed-blood witches, but only witches. They couldn't be choosy about blood and still field an all-witch team."

"So what do you reckon, Harry, do you even want to play?" asked Fred.

"Well, it really takes the shine off, but, yeah, I like to play, so I guess I'll play. Wood, you owe me- what's the best deal I can get, with the time off needed for my Hogwarts duties?"

"Alright, Harry, but you two keep this secret. I'm not much of a negotiator if I give away information like this. Montrose has always prided itself on fielding the best talent available. They only matched Puddlemere because, well, because that was the only competition. But they'll go to 50,000 galleons per year and accommodate Hogwarts."

"Yeah, I guess with the competition for non-purebloods down to the two of them, they can pretty much call the shots for that pool of talent, can't they?"

"I didn't say it was fair. At least there are a few clubs that break ranks."

"So Wood," said Harry, "doesn't it bother you to play for such bigots?"

"It's really good money doing what I love and do the best. That covers over a whole lot of bad conscience."

Harry shook his head. "Listen – everything that was said in here stays here. I don't want to take anything away from Ron. He's got some great offers and he deserves to enjoy them."

"I won't rub his nose in it, Harry, but you can't stop me from gradually waking him up to it," said Fred.

"Fair enough. Just be careful – consider who he's dating," said Harry. "We're liable to have protest marches at quidditch games if you aren't careful."

"Yeah, well it's one time I might join Hermione. This whole situation really frosts me, especially applying it to you, Harry."

"Yeah, well, it's the world we live in, isn't it? We'll just have to work at it as we can," said Harry. "We better get back to the table or they'll think something is going on in here."

"Ah, now that wouldn't affect the League," said Wood.

"Yeah, but it's not the sort of rumor I want about me," said Harry.

"Agreed. Hey, Fred?"

"Yeah, Wood," snarled Fred.

"Chudley'll go to about 90,000 to get Ron, but don't push the last dollar, okay? They really do need a versatile utility player, and they like the big rep he brings."

"Thanks, Wood. I guess you're not a total git."

"Ooh, you'll make me blush."


	15. New Robes

Chapter 15 New Robes

Before returning to the booth, Fred took a Nosebleed Nougat and made sure he had all the signs of a severe nosebleed before he took the antidote. Returning to the table they were able to explain their long delay by saying Fred needed some help after making a rude proposition to a hag. That wasn't the story that Fred had agreed to, but Wood had it out so quickly - with a bemused smirk – that Fred had no choice but to play along. He did so with gusto, intimating interest in trying a liaison with any sort of being at least once. Madam Sneed looked smug and disdainful, while Ron's jaw dropped. George gathered immediately that this was a cover story and played along, and embellished it with sketchy scandalous suggestions of adventures involving goblins, a vampires and a troll.

They made a great show of bargaining even though Wood had told Fred the range the teams would go to. Wood looked very concerned when Fred had Harry and Ron dig in at 60,000 galleons for Harry and 100,000 galleons for Ron, but Madam Sneed eventually agreed. Fred explained to Harry privately that Madam Sneed would never have told Wood their top offer, but would have used his reactions as they approached what he thought was the top authority to influence Harry and Ron to back off. Part of the arrangement was that in each location they visited on the Chocolate Frog promotional tour, they would wear team regalia in public. Fred and George had to rein both Harry and Ron in, as they were so excited at having their teams' official robes, hats, jerseys, and cloaks that they would have given up extra pay to get them early enough to take on the tour.

After signing preliminary agreements and calling in each team's house elf in charge of uniforms and supplies to take measurements, Madam Sneed ordered a round of Gosford's Rumbling Rum to toast the new team members. Ron was giddy enough even before the rum and failed to notice Harry's subdues mood. After the rum, Madam Sneed left and Wood, Harry and the Weasleys decided to stay to talk quidditch over a few pitchers of butterbeer. Harry noticed that Ron refilled his mug more than anyone, but passed it off as the product of Ron's excitement of having a contract paying him more than he had ever before dared to imagine. Harry was glad that they decided to walk rather than apparate to the twins' walk-up apartment, as it gave them a chance for the calming effect of fresh air and physical activity. Ron was still bubbling over with enthusiasm as they had a cup of tea with the twins: Harry noticed George slip a bit of sobering solution into Ron's tea, which took away the sloppy gestures, but left Ron with the natural happiness from getting his new contract.

By the time Harry and Ron got back to 12 Grimmauld Place, it was nearly 2 a.m. They heard various noises upstairs and then Ron noticed and pointed out that there was light coming under the door to the basement. They decided to check the basement first and found Ginny exercising in the gym which had been installed there the year before.

"Hi, Ginn, strange time for a workout," said Harry, giving her a greeting kiss and savoring the smell and salty taste of her sweat.

"Yeah, well, I couldn't sleep. Is it quiet upstairs yet?"

"Erm, there was some sort of sound upstairs – some creaking and scraping, something like that. I thought it was just Kreacher looking for some remnants of the Blacks your mother hadn't found."

Suddenly there was a howl echoing through the house such as Harry had not even heard from the ghoul in the attic at the Burrow. Ginny rolled her eyes and shuddered. "They're at it again – or I guess it's 'still'"

"That howl was Mum?" asked Ron with amazement.

"Yeah, they started to get frisky after you four left, and before long they excused themselves to go upstairs."

"But, the Burrow is much smaller then this house, and less sturdy," Harry pointed out. "You must have heard them lots of times while you were growing up."

"Not much, not like this. I think they must have been consciously keeping themselves discrete all that time," answered Ginny. "Either they thought the sturdy walls here would be more soundproof than they are or they just don't care anymore, figuring that we're all older now."

"Maybe a point there," said Ron. "If I had heard Mum like that when we were younger, I would have called in aurors to save her."

"Yeah, really," agreed Ginny. "but I'm sure that whatever discomfort she may be in is more than made up for. Come on, you two; help me make enough noise down here to cover it up. Besides you have to tell me how it went."

Ron and Harry changed into gym clothes they kept there in the downstairs bathroom as they told Ginny how the negotiations went. Ron did most of the talking, explaining all the possibilities and advantages of the different teams. Ginny's face clearly showed that she had heard almost everything he had to say, except the specific events of the negotiation, several times over the week before the tryout camp, but she seemed content to have Ron speaking loudly and rapidly enough that noises fro above were drowned out.

When Ron finally got to the bottom-line result, she gasped and congratulated them, giving each a hearty hug and appropriate kiss. Then she said, "Listen! I think we can finally go to bed."

"Not without a shower – need someone to wash your back, Ginny?" answered Harry, eyes twinkling.

"Harry …!" Ron intervened sternly.

"Thanks, Harry, but I think the chances of Mum not going with us on the tour would be zero if we were to do anything like that. I'd rather not risk that."

"Right, then," said Harry. "I think I'll get my shower upstairs. One of you can have this one."

"Go ahead, Ron," said Ginny, "I'll take the shower near my room."

"Oh, okay, see you in the morning then," said Ron, heading into the bathroom.

"Great, Ron. Congratulations," Ginny called as the door closed. She gave Harry a more tender kiss than she had with Ron around. "Come on, Harry. If you're not too tired, I want to talk more."

"Just talk?" asked Harry hopefully.

"It's late, Harry – just talk, Ginny confirmed. "You let Ron do most of the talking about the negotiations."

"Yeah. He was pretty pumped."

"Aren't you?"

"Oh, of course. I've got a position with the Magpies, one of the strongest teams. They'll work with my Hogwarts duties, and I'm getting plenty of gold for it."

"You barely knew who the Magpies were a week ago. You never really followed the pro quidditch teams."

"I've been kind of busy. Playing for Gryffindor was always enough."

"Yeah, I suppose. But still, what about the gold? Your barely getting half what Ron is."

"Utility players are in demand."

"More than the best seeker in decades?"

"That's what they said."

"Uh-huh. And they didn't care how famous you are, and all you've done for the wizarding world?"

"Well, Ron really had a more visible role. It's no surprise he should get the offers."

"Get off it, Potter!" scolded Ginny. "Be honest with me. I can see you're hiding things."

Harry nodded. "Okay, but you cannot tell anyone. It would undercut Ron, and he really deserves what he's getting. Besides, Hermione would be intolerable. Promise?" She nodded, so he proceeded. "Did you know that most teams won't hire non-purebloods?"

She looked dubiously at him before responding tentatively. "No. Is this just your assumption as to why your contract is so much less than Ron's?"

"No. Fred and I cornered Wood and wheedled it out of him. He _says _that they only do it because most of the fans are purebloods, with a sizable percentage who won't cheer for us unclean-types."

"You don't believe it?"

"I'm sure that's a factor, but the teams don't seem to be protesting that attitude very much."

"Why haven't I heard about this before? I've been reading pro quidditch magazines for years."

"Yeah, but you don't spend time with the sort who talk up all this pureblooded stuff. I'm sure the sport magazines don't even mention it, except maybe in veiled references to mixed-blood and muggleborn players. To those who care, there are always ways to intimate such things."

"So which teams hire … erm, non-pureblooded players?"

"Just the Magpies and Puddlmere. Oh, and the Harpies have mixed-blood witches."

"Well, those are the strongest teams in the League, anyway. Over half the members of the English, Welsh, Irish and Scottish World Cup teams have come from those three teams."

"And yet, the others don't seem to be clamoring for our services."

"Yeah, I wonder why?"

"It's the gold. Always follow the gold. They don't need to have the best team, so long as they fill the seats, and that means keeping as many purebloods happy as possible."

"You sound a little bitter."

"I guess I am, a bit. I grew up unwanted, well from the time I went to live with the Dursleys. I couldn't even have friends because Dudley made it dangerous to be my friend. When Hogwarts invited and welcomed me – to the extent of sending Hagrid to help me out – it was just the most brilliant thing I could remember happening to me. I was wanted someplace, in this wonderful thing we call the wizarding world. Then I started to learn that there were some wizards and witches that weren't as welcome as others. Still, though, I was on the Gryffindor quidditch team, and everyone cheered for me along with the rest of the team, and so long as the threat of Voldemort was out there, everyone thought I was tops."

"Well, except when they thought you were delusional glory-hog."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, except for that. But even then there were plenty of people who didn't accept the Ministry's stories. And now, I've taken care of Voldemort, and trained everyone who took care of his followers. I reckoned I'd be accepted as a real wizard, and it really gets to me that I have to face that sort of discrimination after all I've been through."

"I'm sorry, Harry. You're right – Hermione would spin like Moody's eye if she knew about this. Is there anything I can do?"

He drew her close and looked into her eyes. Quietly he told her, "I don't too much care if I'm welcomed anywhere else, so long as I'm welcomed into your arms, then I'll be okay."

"Always," she said, leaning her head against his chest. Suddenly she pulled away and wrinkled her nose. "Well, almost always. You got pretty stinky for having a short workout."

"You're no flower right now yourself, Weasley."

She grinned. "Right then, we'd better get showered and get some sleep."

"My offer still stands, you know."

"I'm sure," she said, winking and turning to go up to the floor she was staying on. "Maybe another time – when I'm not too tired."

Sunday morning, Fred and George came to lunch. They had arranged for Hermione to be there as well, so that arrangements for the Famous Wizard card kick-off, already advertised for Tuesday, could be made. There were to be speeches by the company representatives, by a Ministry representative (Arthur begging off both on the grounds of being too busy, and because he felt it would be unseemly for the Minister of Magic to promote a commercial product, even if it did honour to those who led the efforts to end the war), and by Ron, Hermione, and Harry.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione were also expected to sign all the cards with their pictures on that people brought to them during the day. The twins had purchased charmed quills that would make the signatures at a gesture from any of the three. They also had very cunningly placed the tables for the signatures at the very back of a back room, near what was usually the rear service door, so that the line would snake past their merchandise and give them ample opportunity to be tempted. They also had placed several magical fields around the store with various temporary affects, such as making a person very tall, or very squat, or speaking in various odd voices.

"Hermione," asked George at one point. "We even have taken the liberty of ordering special robes for you." He flicked his wand and conjured it from their shop. The fabrics were beautiful – satin, lace, and velvet. But Hermione and Ron were both aghast.

"George!" shouted Ron. "How could you order robes like that for Hermione. That neckline must go down to her navel!"

Hermione had used her hands to compare the robe to her body, and said in horror, "Significantly lower than that, I think!"

"Ah, but it would be great for business, and it would help people to relate to Hermione as a witch and not just a warrior."

"I didn't even fight in the war," Hermione replied, "Why would they see me as a warrior?"

"Well, you did your fighting at other times," replied Fred. "Really, your public image is rather of a stodgy, swotty, button-down muggleborn. This is very high-fashion for witches – it says you have fully adopted the wizarding world."

"It also says I don't mind showing a large percentage of my body!"

"It doesn't show as much as a bikini would," observed Ginny. "I know you have one of those."

"It's different at the pool or the beach, where everyone is dressed like that," objected Hermione.

"Hermione," soothed Fred, "we wouldn't suggest a dress like this if you didn't have the figure to carry it off. Besides, this is a classic style – witches since Morgana have worn this when they want to fully declare" and for this he put on his best imitation of a witch with an attitude, "'I'm a witch and I don't care a whit what the muggles think.'"

"Yeah? Maybe so, but all of my relatives are muggles and I DO care what they think. If I thought they would see me in this, I wouldn't even have considered it this long."

Ron sidled over to her. "You _would_ look awesome in that."

"You think so?" she said to him with a small smile, and he nodded. "But I'm not so sure I want to show that much to just everyone." Then she turned to Mrs. Weasley. "Mrs. Weasley, is this really a classic look for witches."

"Yes, dear, I have a similar cut for special occasions, though I can't fit into it anymore."

"But, I … erm, couldn't wear any of my usual undergarments with this, and if I was not awfully careful, I'd be showing things I have no intention at all of showing."

"Ah, we can take it upstairs and let you try it on. I can show you some sticking charms that will protect your dignity without either being obvious or damaging your skin."

"So you think I should wear it, Mrs. Weasley?"

"I'm sure you've read the paper today. I think making a very witchy statement would be advisable."

"Hmm, what?" said Harry. "I didn't see the paper yet – what's up?"

"It's nothing in particular Harry," said Mr. Weasley, "just the continuing series on the war. "This week, they focused on the broom squadrons."

"Okay, so I didn't get a mention there. I really didn't do much with them besides the initial spells and dueling work," said Harry.

"It's not just that, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley. "Somehow the article was written so as to not mention any of the non-purebloods who fought the giants. They even left out Hagrid, Tonks and Madame Maxime."

"But they were huge in that part of the battle," protested Harry. "Tonks and Madame Maxime came this close to giving their lives. If not for," he paused, not wanting to claim attention for himself for healing them, "some fortuitous events, they would be dead from their involvement in that part of the battle."

"We know," said Mr. Weasley. "They even found a way to mention Remus, making a point of noting that both his father and mother were magical, and even that he is completely cured, although they don't say from what."

"Or _by whom!" _growled Fred.

"Or by whom," agreed Mr. Weasley. "You know, Harry, this probably is just business as usual for the wizarding world, but I never noticed it. Before Ron had muggle-raised friends, I just thought of muggles as these quaint and fascinating folk. I never saw how the existing wizarding world marginalizes those not raised in our culture."

"But you're the Minister now – you can do something about that, can't you?" asked Harry.

"You mean laws? There are laws on the books, but the problem is that there aren't really any violations that I know of." Harry realized that he could mention the quidditch league, which was probably violating some anti-discrimination law, but he still didn't want to reveal that situation. He looked at Fred and then Ginny and pursed his lips to show that he would keep silent and they gave faint nods. Mr. Weasley continued, "Simply ignoring parts of the news is not illegal."

"It doesn't seem that even making up news is illegal in the wizarding world," answered Hermione coldly.

"No, indeed not," agreed Mr. Weasley. "We strictly protect freedom of communication, even to protecting the right to pass off a lie. Part of the problem is that those who are in a position to hire tend to hire those whose families they know, all else being equal."

"And those are pf course, wizarding families," said Ron dryly.

"Exactly, son," said Mr. Weasley. "After a couple of generations of wizarding, most people don't keep track anymore whether there are muggles in other people's ancestry, but for those raised with muggles in their home, their behaviours and attitudes and ways of expressing themselves are just noticeably different; it makes some wizards uncomfortable."

"But Hermione got great training assignments with both the Department of Mysteries and St. Mungo's," said Ron.

Mr. Weasley smiled at Hermione. "I said 'all things being equal' – there's no one around who is Hermione's equal."

Hermione blushed. "I erm, ah, Thank you, Mr. Weasley. I had better go try this robe on." She grabbed the robe from George and ran out the door.

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Now, you've done it, Arthur, made a constituent cry. You'll never be a politician. Come along, Ginny. I could use your help, and you should know these charms as well."

"Well, while they're doing that" said George, "it's time we saw about getting Ron and Harry outfitted in some properly wizardy robes."

"Great!" said Harry, "I know I've needed a few."

"Not just yet," said Ron, a bit dreamily, "Not til I've seen Hermione in that robe."


	16. Magical Mystery Tour

Chapter 16 Magical Mystery Tour

Monday morning before the tour, Harry was having breakfast with Ginny, Ron and Molly Weasley at the kitchen table when he announced he was going back to Hogwarts for the day.

"Yes, Harry," said Molly Weasley. "You have business there?"

"Sort of," said Harry. "My appointment as a teacher there is based on exploration of the Chamber of Secrets. I find myself a bit anxious having ignored that for so long. And of course, I won't be able to get back to it again until just before the start of the new school year."

"Will one day make that much difference, dear?" Molly asked.

"Well, you never know. I figured I would start making a map of both the physical layout and the places where the magic is particularly strong. I can also bring up some more of the basilisk skins."

Ginny looked a bit concerned at him. "You seem awfully keen."

"Well, I don't know about the 'awful' part, but, yeah, I guess I'm keen on it. I guess I'm used to working on mysteries and that's the one in front of me. And when I went down there with Dumbledore, I found it strangely comforting and serene to be there. Besides, I'd like to see Dobby, Melony and Hagrid before I go."

"Not Dumbledore?" asked Ron.

"I reckon I'll drop in, at least when I bring him the basilisk skins, but I keep in touch every so often with him with the mirrors, so it's not the same."

"Are you going to take Dobby with you?" asked Ron. "I know I wouldn't want to go back down there without someone."

"Oh, Ron," shuddered Ginny. "How could you think of going down there at all?"

"Hmpf! You didn't ask that about Harry."

"Him? I'm used to him being an idiot about danger."

"Hey, I'm just as big an idiot as Harry!" said Ron, with a mischievous grin. "But what's the big deal – Harry killed the snake already. Now it's just a big cave."

"Not to me, it's not," said Ginny darkly.

"And it still really is more than just a dark cave," added Harry. "There are lots of enchantments and protections we still haven't dealt with, if only the ones that allow it to still exist and be hidden. Dumbledore even says he suspects it houses a curse that goes back to Slytherin."

"Another monster?" gasped Mrs. Weasley.

"No, apparently nothing like that. Something that has been afflicting the wizarding world ever since, but Dumbledore was really vague about it. He could have been practicing occlumency with me, but I didn't see any signs that he was lying."

"Harry, are you using legilemency all the time?" asked Ginny.

"No!" he protested.

She looked suspiciously at him. "You said that too suddenly. What's up – you promised you wouldn't use it on friends."

"I'm not 'using' it. I don't try to and I generally am suppressing it. It's sort of like hearing – you can try to close out sounds but they still get through. It's mostly just getting a vague indication whether someone's being deceitful or not."

Ginny began to giggle. "I'll keep that in mind if I ever have to fake the big O."

Ron and Harry's mouths dropped, and Molly Weasley gasped. "Ginny! How can you say such a thing!"

"Oh, come on, Mum. Don't tell me you've never faked it when it it's just not happening for you and you want Dad to think it has."

Molly started to open her mouth to retort, then caught herself. "I'm just not sure it's a proper breakfast topic."

"Whatever, Mum. It's not like any of us here don't know what I'm talking about." She looked around and saw that both Harry's and Ron's faces were beet-red. "Oh, get over it, you two."

"Well," said Harry awkwardly. "Somehow it is a bit embarrassing hearing you say it around … Mum."

Ron agreed. "… or from you, Ginny."

Molly Weasley tilted her head toward Harry. "I hope you're not so uncomfortable around me that you won't ask me about such matters."

"Well, erm, I had really rather expected to ask Dad if, erm, anything came up."

"Came up?" snickered Ginny, earning a stern look from Molly, who then allowed a slight grin.

"I mean, it's just, you know," Harry stammered, "easier to talk about it with another man, and, erm, if last night's any indication, he seems to know what he's doing."

"Oh, gracious, were we overheard?" exclaimed Molly.

"Only when we stopped making noise," muttered Ron, keeping his head almost touching his bowl of porridge.

"Sorry about that," apologized Molly. "We'll sound-charm the room next time. But Harry, Arthur is terribly busy these days with the recovery after the war. You take questions to me, hear?"

"Yes, Mum, or maybe Remus or Dumbledore."

Ron snickered. "You reckon Dumbledore even remembers about such things."

Harry grinned. "Yeah, I think Dumbledore remembers everything. So, Ginny, Ron, are you coming with me?"

Ginny looked up at Molly. "Mum, do you need us?"

"No more than I always want to have those I love around. But I was going to meet your father for lunch today at the Ministry, and then I have to go to Diagon Alley today, so you two can go on. I'm going to look in on Fred and George's preparations as well, so I can give you the report this evening."

"Great, then," said Ron, "I'm game."

"I'll go to Hogwarts, Harry," said Ginny, "there are people I want to visit there, too, but there is no way you'll get me down into that Chamber."

Harry smiled sympathetically. "I understand, Ginny. It was majorly scary for Ron and me, but a real horror for you."

"So long as you understand, then," she said, with a slight tremolo in her voice from remembering what happened in her first year.

"Well, then" said Harry, clapping his hands together and rubbing them enthusiastically, "If Kreacher can handle the dishes?" he said to the rather-demented house elf he had inherited from Sirius Black, who had just removed a couple of empty serving platters.

Kreacher glared insolently at his master and sneered as contemptuously as possible, "Nothing could give my life more meaning, Master."

"Excellent, then we can pop right off, yes?" and with hugs for Molly, they were gone.

In the course of the tour, Harry had thought he would be going to Disneyland, or maybe EuroDisney. Both were on the itinerary. But sometimes things don't turn out as you expect. Harry first learned that a few changes had been made on the way to Weasley Wizard Wheezes the morning of the kickoff for the tour. Harry, Ron and Ginny had met Hermione at her apartment in Diagon Alley. Her parents were there to see her off. Hermione said she had insisted that they do so at her apartment rather than at the kick-off ceremony because of all the magical tricks and incidental uses of magic that might be too intimidating or even dangerous for them. After walking Mr and Mrs. Granger to the exit through The Leaky Cauldron, Harry and his friends had to hurry to arrive with ample time to get ready for all the scheduled events.

As they went, Harry asked Hermione, "Was concern for them the only reason you didn't want your parents at the opening, Hermione?"

She blushed. "Erm, I don't know what you mean, Harry."

"Some thoughts don't require a legilemens to see through. You're wearing school robes, even though you promised you'd be wearing that slinky set."

"I, erm, just thought it would be more convenient to change at the store."

Ginny laughed raucously. "Yeah, the twins' place is just where you want to have your clothes off – even when you think you'd have privacy."

"Oh, gosh, that's right. Who knows where they've planted cameras? But I've got to change and there's no time to walk back to my flat."

"Well," said Ron, dripping with sarcasm, "you _could_ apparate! I swear, Granger, every time you're under stress, you forget you're a witch."

"Oh, of course," said Hermione, laughing nervously.

"Or," offered Harry, "I'm sure Madam Malkin would let you change at her place. Ron and I have to stop and pick up our new robes. She promised she'd have them ready by now."

"Yes, that will do. You'll help me change, won't you, Ginny?" asked Hermione.

"Only if you'll let me borrow that outfit on occasion" then she glanced through a wisp of hair at Harry, "if I get to go someplace on the tour I might want to wear something like that."

Harry started grinning bigger than his first Christmas at Hogwarts when he found he had gotten actual presents.

"Down, boy!" Hermione said to Harry. Then to Ginny, she added, "I'm sure that would be fine – if you can be sure they won't get damaged."

Ginny smirked and, glancing again at Harry, answered, "Now that may be a tall request."

"Oh, by the way," said Hermione. "I hope no one minds that I made a few changes to the trip."

"What kind of changes?" asked Ron. "Didn't the company go through a lot of preparations in each of the host cities?"

"Oh, of course, I wouldn't have even asked to change those. We're going to so many fascinating places. And that's what led me to look into some alternate entertainments. We can go to beaches and amusement parks anytime, but we can't always visit some of the wonderful magical and cultural places around the world."

"Well, I guess that makes sense," said Ron, with Harry and Ginny agreeing. "But you left some fun in there as well, didn't you – and I don't mean Hermione-fun, I mean normal fun."

"Oh, of course. Aren't I a fun person?"

The air between them all hung heavily at this question that did not seem so rhetorical to the others as Hermione had intended it. Then Harry broke the silence. "Well, I know I'll be thrilled to see cultural and magical things as well. The Dursleys never took me to any such things – well, of course not magic, but, you know what I mean – and I haven't had a chance to explore much of such things since I learned I'm a wizard."

Ginny giggled. "That always sounds so funny to me when you say that. I mean, you're such an awesomely powerful wizard, it seems like you should have known all along."

Ron agreed. "Yeah, it's like if you woke up one morning, looked down and said, 'well what do you know – I'm a bloke!' I mean, what else would _you_ be but a wizard."

"Now, Ron," Hermione gently upbraided, "the differences between a wizard and a muggle are not nearly as obvious as that. We all are just types of people."

"Hm. If you say so. Muggles seem awfully different to me," said Ron.

"That's really just cultural," said Harry. "The wizarding world is largely closed off to the muggle world, so we've drifted apart in a number of ways. And yet, with all the intermarriage with muggles, there's a lot of sharing, too – even if most of the muggles aren't aware of some of the wizarding contributions to their culture. Come on, now. We've got to hurry."

The opening went wonderfully. A small crowd was already waiting when they got to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. A grandstand in front had been set up, emblazoned with symbols representing many of Harry's grandest adventures. By the time, the unveiling of the new cards arrived, the crowd filled the streets. Except for the lack of goblins (due to the sunlight), centaurs, and dancing, it was in many ways a continuation of the celebration at the school. This crowd, at least, seemed to have remembered what had been accomplished – and by whom.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were kept until late in the evening signing cards. Plenty of those in the crowd also insisted on having signatures from Ginny, the twins and other team leaders who were present. When Ginny was first asked she was quite taken aback, and Harry had a good laugh, but she soon recovered and accepted the attention graciously.

They had a quick dinner at The Leaky Cauldron before setting off on their brooms. Harry would have been comfortable apparating across the English Channel, but the others were not quite so confident. Harry needed little convincing to ride a broom. When they got ready to take off, he began eying Hermione's broom.

"A new broom, Hermione? What happened to the one you had?"

"Oh, this was a present from Ron. He said the other was not so good for long flights, and we are going to be crossing oceans, after all."

"That's very generous, Ron," said Harry.

"Well, I've always had to be cautious – well, cheap – about presents before. But with my quidditch signing bonus, I wanted to do some catching up."

"You needn't have, Ron," said Hermione. "We always understood. Your friendship was all that mattered."

"Still, it feels good to be able to buy a few things just because I want to."

"So what kind, is it, Hermione? I don't recognize it," said Harry.

"You wouldn't, would you, Potter?" said Ginny. "All you know are the souped-up racing and quidditch models. That's a Jetstream Cruiser 4. It's built to be comfortable and safe on long flights."

Ron whistled. "You know your brooms, don't you, Ginny?" She gave a mock curtsy. "She's right, Harry. Hermione's old broom is good enough for shorter trips, but I noticed how sore she said she was when she got back from Voldemort's island."

"Ron, you paid attention?"

"Of course, Hermione, why wouldn't I? Anyway, Harry, this one doesn't have the acceleration and sharp steering of ours, but it's got loads better cushioning charms, magical protections against most major flying mistakes, and even comes equipped with a charm that warms, cools, provides shade, or enshrouds you with a disillusionment charm, as needed."

"Awesome," said Harry, admiring the broom. "Neville and I could have used that on our long trip to London and back."

In a few hours they arrived in Paris. They had an appearance there first and then a couple of days for sightseeing. They were pleased to see that Madame Maxime had made the trip from Beauxbatons to greet them, and were also amused to see her attracting the same sort of incredulous stares Hagrid did passing through British muggle streets. Maxime even arranged for them to stay at Beuxbatons while they were in France and gave them a personal tour of the school the evening after their Paris appearance.

With the warning Hermione had given, there was no concern when they learned EuroDisney, the Riviera, and skiing had been cancelled in favor of visiting the Louvre, the Bastille, Lourdes, Chartres and other historical, cultural and magical sites. But then Italy became booked with visits to ruins, catacombs, and chapels. The time at the Greek beaches gave way to visits to Mount Olympus, the Parthenon, Delphi and other magical sites. The recreational activities in Germany and Scandinavia gave way to the Berlin Opera, museums, and other such sites. It wasn't that any of the substitutions were not good ideas, but they got to be too much. But no one could object to spending their free time in the Balkans with Charlie Weasley at the dragon preserve and touring the all-vampire town in Transylvania. Nor did anyone want to miss the tour of the goblins' excavations in Egypt. Looking later into the tour, the group found that Hermione had traded in almost every entertainment for cultural events. For instance, in Vancouver, Hermione had arranged a side trip to visit the Tlingkit Indians to learn about Devils' Club, a medicinal plant which had magical properties and required specialized picking procedures to preserve the magic.

The tour provided a break after two weeks, worked into the schedule to allow them to attend the Longbottoms' party. It was an all-day affair, with both an indoor buffet and an outdoor cookout, various musical groups playing traditional music, and a veela dance company (with a moat conjured around them to rouse wizards who became overwhelmed by the veela charms). The Longbottoms had one of the smaller versions of Fred and George's fireworks display depicting Harry's adventures and had it going in one of the larger barns which generally went unused in the summer; they paid a bit extra to have it repeat continuously so that people could wander in as they chose, or return later for another portion. The guests included hundreds of friends and acquaintances of the various members of the Longbottom family, including all of the older participants in the war who could make it. The Longbottoms had consulted with parents and Dumbledore and it had been agreed that it was better for most of the returning Hogwarts students not to be invited, so that they might return to more of a normal life after conclusion of the war.

There were party favors, such as hats that made you look like famous historical witches and wizards. Ginny got one marked Wendelyn the Weird, which caused her to appear to burst into flame, but the flames were actually quite cool and tickly; she put on a great, histrionic show of screaming in agony as she 'burned.' Harry's friends all howled when Harry put on the witch's hat he got which was marked Morgana, and his robes transformed into a black version of the slinky robes Hermione had worn at the tour appearances. Harry played along by modeling the gown for a bit, until Ginny grabbed the front slit and held it together, "Harry, let's not model EVERYthing – this hat didn't conjure sticking charms!" Harry then removed the hat and passed it on to Dean Thomas.

The Longbottoms had mercifully chosen not to have public speeches at the party concerning the war. It turned out this was not just for the honoree's benefit. After a couple of hours, the sounds of a terrible row came from one of the upstairs windows. Neville sighed and flicked his wand toward the window, which closed. He flicked it again and it became soundproof.

"That was well done, Neville!" exclaimed Harry.

Neville sighed resignedly. "I've had a lot of practice." Then he looked around to make sure he would only be heard by his best friends. "It's been like that all summer. Mum and Dad can't get along with anyone. Now that they have their minds back, they're just so prickly about anything and everything."

"Oh, Neville," said Hermione, giving Neville a sympathetic hug, "I'm so sorry."

"Thanks. It's not as if Gran and I hadn't been warned. They're adjusting to, well, just living, after all. They missed fifteen years of their lives, and frankly, I think there were some things lost that even Harry couldn't heal."

Harry nodded and said quietly. "There were. I could feel gaps in their emotional state."

"It must have been a coping mechanism for their brain to just sever some parts," said Hermione.

"I reckon. Oh, don't get me wrong, Harry! I don't for a minute regret that you healed them. Much of the time, they're just fine, and we still haven't come close to catching them up on everything that's happened. It's just …"

Ron put a hand on Neville's shoulder and completed the thought, "…hard to live through it?"

Neville nodded. "And yet, happier than I've ever been before. It's crazy, noisy, angry, confusing and frustrating, but we are all together as a family."

Harry smiled, "Excellent way to approach it, Neville."


	17. Playtime

Chapter 17 - Playtime

Harry and Ginny took the opportunity of the Longbottom's party to finally voice their concerns about the changes to the tour to Hermione. By the time the day for the kickoff for the promotional tour had arrived, Hermione had substituted edifying activities for every single recreation that had been scheduled. They were left no free time for any simple fun until they ended their tour in Atlanta. Ginny and Harry cornered Hermione at the party when they were able to get her aside at the party.

"What is wrong with you, Granger," said Ginny. "Have you got something against fun?"

Hermione waved her hand dismissively, "Oh, don't be silly, Ginny. We can go do those 'play' things anytime: these are opportunities! Besides, these things are a lot of fun."

"I reckon they will be," said Harry, "but it's just too much. Some variety would be nice."

"This IS variety – there's archeology, and magic, and botany, and music, and ballet. It just goes on and on!" enthused Hermione.

Ginny looked at the new itinerary, "So what's wrong with Atlanta? Is it such a wasteland that you couldn't load us down there, too?"

"Well, not exactly. They have museums and battlefields and such. Give me time."

"NO!" said Harry and Ginny together.

"How about a day at the Jimmy Carter Presidential Library and the Centers for Disease Control?"

Harry and Ginny shook their heads in dismay.

"The Center for Puppetry Arts? The Coca-Cola World Museum?"

"NO!" said Harry and Ginny together again.

Ginny continued. "Hermione, when we get to Atlanta, we're not going to museums or concerts or Indian sites. We're going to play – we'll be at a pool or an amusement park or something just for the fun of it. They have lots of sun there and we're going to make use of it!"

"Okay, I guess a day or two of downtime before we come back to Britain would be a good idea."

"Oh, you are too generous, Hermione," said Harry sarcastically. "I want at least a day or two of this trip where there's nothing I need to be looking at except Ginny!"

"Ooh! I like the sound of that," said Ginny.

"And what's wrong with me, Potter?" asked Hermione indignantly.

"You're not Ginny. If you want someone to watch you, go get your own Weasley."

She smiled. "Oh, alright, I'll just do that."

That evening, Harry and Hermione stayed at Grimmauld Place so they could resume the tour bright and early together. Since this was near Ginny's and Harry's birthdays, they received their presents then. Harry received all sorts of magical gadgets and gizmos, along with what seemed to be an entire wardrobeful of very wizardly clothes. Apparently very many of his friends and admirers had understood his lack of wizard fashion-sense. The last box Harry came to was from Dumbledore. He opened it up and gasped. The others came and looked in as well, as he started to lift the gift out.

"The pensieve," gasped Hermione.

Harry looked carefully, "No, not Dumbledore's. This is a little different. Still, I didn't even know there were any others."

"Oh, they're rare all right," said Hermione. "They were invented by Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff soon after the war with Slytherin and his supporters, and they only made a couple. Every so often, a great wizard has been able to make another, but there doesn't seem to have ever been more than three or four in existence at one time."

Harry and the Weasleys looked at her blankly. "Well, haven't you all read …"

"No!" they shouted.

"How rude," grumbled Hermione.

"Well, we've already done a lot with memories, so I reckon he thought I would have need of it."

"Well, who has more issues to sort out than you?" asked Ron.

"Yeah, that, and this will allow Dobby to come and go from the Chamber as needed."

"How so?" asked Arthur.

"I'll show you. It's something I need to do anyway." Then Harry took out his wand and started removing silver strands of memory from his mind. "There, that's my recollection of saying the words in parseltongue to open the Chamber." He gave it a swirl with his wand and wafted upward, causing a silvery Harry figure, just twelve years old, to arise from the surface hissing something. When the figure sank back down, Harry took one of the bottles of blank memory that were also in the box. "Now I pour this in and it makes a copy." He swirled it a bit and started to remove the duplicate and put it back in the bottle. When he was done, he put the cork back in it and tapped the bottle with his wand, creating a label that identified it. As he returned the original memory to his mind, he explained, "There, now if Dobby needs to open the Chamber when I am unavailable to open it, he can just get the pensieve and this bottle."

"That's amazing, Harry," said Hermione. "Could I try it out sometime?"

"Uh, sure. You've got things to sort through?"

"Oh, I don't know, but I would certainly love to see how to work a great magical device like that."

After Molly and Arthur had gone to bed, the four were sitting around the table for late night tea when a quartet of owls arrived, each with an envelope.

"Our NEWTS!" squealed Hermione, tearing open her envelope.

Ron gazed at the teapot like it was a crystal ball, and spoke airily, "Things are getting clearer, yes, I am seeing something now – Hermione got an outstanding NEWT in every exam."

Harry threw an oven mitt at him and laughed. "That's not divination – that's a sure thing."

"Hmf," said Hermione, "The least you two could do is let me announce my own results."

"So …?" said Ginny.

Hermione blushed, "An outstanding in every exam. Now you, Ron."

Ron tore his open, "Missed the NEWTs in History and Divination, but outstanding in the rest except Potions."

They all cheered.

"Now you, Harry," said Ginny, squeezing his arm.

"Alright," he replied, tearing open the envelope, "NEWTs in all I took, outstanding in all but Potions and Divination."

"Excellent, Harry," said Hermione, "you're still on track to be an auror."

Harry smiled. "I reckon. Right now I'm not so sure I want to do that any more than I have to."

"Any more than you have to? If you don't want to, why would you have to?" asked Ron.

"It's the downside of being The Boy Who Lived – just as Dumbledore was always expected to fix things when there were dark wizards that the aurors couldn't take care of, people will be looking to me for those special cases. Dumbledore's already warned me. It's one of the reasons he wants me to continue teaching DA for awhile – he hopes my attentions will help to turn those around who might be tempted to go down the dark path."

Hermione nodded, "Better to help them be good wizards than to have to fight them later."

Ginny grabbed his hand and said with a wink, "I hope that's not the only reason you want to be at Hogwarts next year."

Harry grinned and winked back at her. "No, of course not, but I want to warn you three right now. We're a team, so if I'm called on to sort something out, I'm dragging you into it, too."

"You got it, mate," said Ron. "You don't think we're going to let you hog all the glory, do you?"

Ginny put her hand out between them all. "A pledge," she said, "that we'll face the big issues together."

They all put their hands together and said, "pledge."

"Thanks, everyone," said Harry. "I need you all. Now, Ginny, how about your envelope? Can't be a booklist, since you already have all your NEWT-level books."

"I've already felt it, so I know what it is," said Ginny, pouring out the Head Girl badge.

The others cheered for her.

"You'll have some big shoes to fill, Ginny," said Ron.

"Really, Ron? That's very sweet of you," said Hermione.

"No, I meant it literally. Have you two seen the size of Hermione's feet – blimey!" Ron laughed and ducked as another oven mitt came flying at him.

The tour picked up just where it had left off before the break for the Longbottoms' party. Generally things went very smoothly. They only had one bit of trouble. In New York City, Hermione had stayed behind at the Museum of Natural History and decided to walk back to the hotel through Central Park after dark rather than take a taxi. When the others realized that she was taking too long to return, they set off on foot toward the Museum. Partway through the park, they noticed a large number of flashing emergency lights. They ran to the scene to see what was up and asked a policeman manning a barricade what had happened.

He barely could contain himself from laughing: "Gang of yoots tried to give a young woman trouble. She must have been a black belt or sumthin' cuz she kicked 'em all silly. Didn't know what hit'm, youse know, none of 'em can even remember what's what. They even had knives and guns. Sarge wants to send her troo again – we could make this place safe for reg'lar folks in a couple-a-nights."

Ron looked panicky, "What did she look like – she might be a friend of ours."

"There she is – talking with Sergeant Pooler."

They recognized Hermione's still-short hair silhouetted by the lights.

"That's Hermione, all right," said Harry. "Can we go in and see her?"

The officer shouted, "'Ey, Miss – you know dese t'ree?" When she squealed and nodded yes enthusiastically, he let them in. They ran over and teased her as she finished filling out reports with the police sergeant.

"It's lucky your friend here knows how to defend herself," Sergeant Pooler said to them.

Hermione laughed. "Those thugs are lucky they didn't run into these three – they're all much tougher than me."

"Really?" said the sergeant, looking them over. "Well, they're fit, I'll give you that. None of you look tough, though."

"It's all in the technique, sir," said Ginny.

Finally they had a couple of days to spend in Atlanta with nothing scheduled but their promotional appearance. Hermione picked up brochures for things like the Martin Luther King Memorial and ZooAtlanta, but the others would have none of it.

"We're sure those things are inspirational and educational, BUT - we're either going to play or lay in the sun, Hermione."

They asked the hotel clerk about what sort of recreation was available.

"I assume y'all want more than the hotel's pool? Well, it depends on what y'all're interested in. Y'all appear to be a bit young to go to the bars and places like that – gotta be 21. There's the Braves, our baseball team: they're doin' right well this year."

Harry and Hermione knew enough about baseball to know they weren't interested. "How about amusement parks?"

He pulled out a couple of brochures and handed them to the group. "Sure. Ya basically have two major choices close at hand. There's Six Flags – that's got rides and stuff like that, and there's White Water, that's a water park. Oh, and it's got a small amusement park with it – more for younger kids, but there's bumper cars and miniature golf and stuff."

Harry pulled Ron aside. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Water park – girls in swimsuits! How about it?"

"Sounds great, but how do we ditch Ginny and Hermione?"

"Ron!" But Ron was laughing.

"Seriously, Harry, sounds good to me – look at this - there's a bunch of pools, slides, places to lay in the sun, stuff to eat. What's not to like?"

Harry turned to Hermione and Ginny, "How about the water park?"

They both agreed happily. Then Hermione turned to the hotel clerk and got instructions for where they could get swimsuits. While neither Ron nor Harry normally enjoyed clothes shopping, on this occasion it was pleasant enough. They first made sure they had their own swimsuits, while Ginny and Hermione looked for some that they liked. They asked a salesgirl – a pleasant young black woman – to help them find suits. She showed them a selection of swim trunks. Ron looked confused.

"Beg your pardon, but where we come from, the boys where tight little suits, you know, like Speedos and such."

She looked them up and down and started to grin, then laughed. "Well, I'd be happy to see you two try those on, but if you're going to be around a pool or a hot tub, this is what all the boys here wear."

They chose out a couple of trunks and got Hermione and Ginny's approval (after explaining – to the girls' disappointment – about the current American fashion). Then it was time for the girls to model what they had selected. They showed about twenty different suits to enthusiastic responses (except that Ron could not bring himself to encourage anything but the most conservative of one-piece suits for Ginny). Finally, Hermione selected a one-piece with the hips cut high and a scoop back and Ginny selected a backless one-piece with the front held up by a strap around her neck. They also found beach towels, sunscreen, and hats, after having been warned that the sun in Atlanta is much stronger than they were used to.

They had a taxi drop them off at the park. It was a fine sunny day, but they soon appreciated the warning about the Atlanta sun - even under the pine trees in the line to the entrance, the heat was oppressive. When they got to the head of the line, they started through the gate and a boy about their age holding a rubber stamp said to Ron, who was first, "Hand, please."

Ron looked at him oddly and then held up his hand like he was waving to someone.

"Hey, man," said the attendant, "I've been standing out here for two hours already – just let me stamp your hand. Here, like this."

"What for?" asked Ron, as Hermione and Harry fought to suppress their giggles.

The boy struggled to be patient. "If you decide to leave the park, like to go to the amusement park or sum'thin' you'll be able to show this to get back in."

"Oh," said Ron and Ginny (who had come up to hear the explanations). Then the boy stamped their hands, and Ron said, "Now wait a second, mate, there's nothing here. I might want to get back in."

"Sir," said the boy, with a strong tone of sarcasm, "let me show you." He took Ron by the wrist and held it under the ultraviolet light at the gate at the other side of the stand. The date appeared glowing under the light.

"Ooh, cool," said Ron and Ginny.

"Yeah," said the boy, rolling his eyes, "it's like magic."

"Well, not really," said Ron, "but it is pretty neat."

Harry and Hermione, barely able to control themselves, pushed Ginny and Ron through as they got their own hands stamped. Then they all picked up a map to get their bearings to the various pools and slides. At first they thought they would do a slide. They saw that one was called the Dragon's Tail, and felt they had to see what kind of dragon's tail it would be like. They got directions to it and found that it didn't resemble a dragon's tail much at all; however, it did have a rather high-speed stair-stepped waterslide that looked to be a lot of fun.

Unfortunately, a lot of other people thought it looked like a lot of fun too, so the line was outrageously long. They had already resolved not to use magic to unfair advantage at muggle places, so they determined instead to find something not so crowded. They got directions to a bunch of other slides and found them all with similar lines. It seemed like half of metropolitan Atlanta wanted to play in the water. Finally they asked a staffer what they could do without such lines. She pointed them to an area with a wave pool and artificial beach, an inflatable tube ride along a moderately paced canal, and several pools with varying sorts of accommodations for playing in the water. Best of all, none of these had lines – you just joined right in.

Ron and Hermione decided to start off with a tube ride. Hermione showed him how to get into the tubes and lean back to go floating along. He missed a couple of times, but then got the hang of it, and they headed off down the channel, with fingers and toes intertwined.

Harry and Ginny had been watching them. By the time Ginny had seen them pass out of sight around a bend, Harry's attention had drifted elsewhere. He was staring off toward something, but she was not sure what. Then she saw in the direction he was looking a very shapely woman in an extremely tiny thong bikini.

"Harry!" she cried, "how could you?"

"Hmm, what?"

"Looking at that girl. I'm right here! At least be polite!"

"What? Oh, I'm not looking at anyone, Ginny."

"Then what?"

"At those," he said, pointing to a couple of areas that had something that looked like an enormous jungle gyms in pools with water splashing and spraying all over the place and another with a multistory wooden structure to climb all over that also had water splashing and spraying all around. There were hundreds of kids and young teens splashing and playing all over them.

"Yeah, what about them?"

"That looks like so much fun."

"Really?"

"Yeah," said Harry, a bit wistfully. "I know it's mostly kids younger than us there, and a few parents with the toddlers. But I never got to do any of those sorts of things when I was a kid. Even at school, Dudley and his gang would chase me out of the swings and playsets. My best place to go was up the trees where the heavier kids couldn't get to me."

"I'm sorry, Harry," said Ginny. "Well, if that's what you want to do, let's go. I just want to get some sun, get plenty wet and spend the day having fun with you."

They climbed and squirted each other and others, and splashed and slid for more than an hour before Ginny finally said she needed a break. Harry offered to come along, but Ginny told him to stay. "You're having too much fun. I'll go get a couple of drinks and we can sit together for a bit when I get back."

"Thanks for understanding," said Harry.

When Ginny returned with the cans of drink and found Harry, she nearly split her sides laughing. She ran to get Ron and Hermione, who were just rounding the bend on the tubes again. They laughed just as hard. They found Harry in one of the shallower pools for the younger kids. He was surrounded by two or three dozen kids who seemed to be no older than ten, all splashing him and squirting him with the many constantly squirting water guns around the pool, as he squirted and splashed them back. They were all squealing and laughing as Harry played with them, hopelessly outnumbered as he was.

"Reckon we should rescue him?" asked Ron.

"I'm not sure," said Hermione, still laughing. "Who would rescue us?"

"I'll do it," said Ginny, wading in and taking him by the arm, to the disappointed moans of the kids there. She led Harry over to a shaded deck with some lounge chairs.

"How'd you get into that, Harry?" asked Ron.

"I don't know really. I just waded in to slide down the sluice there, and got squirted. I turned around and there were a couple of boys laughing and grinning, so I grabbed a water gun and squirted them back. It just grew and grew from there."

"Well, it looked like you were all having a wonderful time," said Hermione.

"Oh, yeah, it was great fun. Kind of sad, though."

Ginny tilted her head toward him, "How so, Harry?"

"All those kids have been dropped off by their parents. Maybe the parents are sunning themselves, or doing the water slides or something like that – they may have even left them at the park, though I hope not - the kids seem too young for that. The kids are having some fun, but what they want most of all is some time with their parents. So when they found an opportunity to play with someone who seemed parent-sized to them, they were drawn like nifflers to gold. Those parents don't realize what they're missing. The kids do, but they can't make themselves properly understood. What a shame that is. I remember how much I wanted to have an adult who cared about me – that's why your parents accepting me as they did was so important."

"Oh, Harry," said Ginny, laying her head on his shoulder. "I promise if we should ever be parents, I'll be sure to push you in the pool every chance I get."

"Oh, yeah!" said Harry, swallowing the last of his drink and standing. "Well, Mums can play, too." Then he hoisted her over his shoulder and carried her into the pool with the squirt guns, dropping her into the three-foot-deep water. "You take that one, I'll take this," he said, as both were immediately under attack by dozens of kids with squirters.


	18. Duty Intrudes

Chapter 18 Duty Intrudes

They played for another hour before Ron and Hermione insisted they get out for lunch.

Hermione laughed at them, "Honestly, the way you two play, it's like you need us to be your parents."

"Were you ever a child, Hermione," said Ginny, "or were you just a little adult growing up?"

They walked over to the food vending area and found a table. Harry handed Ron a muggle credit card the Chocolate Frog company had given them for the trip. "Here, Ron, I need a rest: why don't you get some food."

In about ten minutes, Ron came back with a tray that had on it a medium pizza, two hamburgers, three foot-long frankfurters, a quart each of cole claw and baked beans, and an extra large milkshake. He sat down, setting the tray in front of him, and set the card down on the table, asking "Who's next?"

"Ron," said Hermione, "you don't mean to say you're going to eat all of that yourself?"

"I'm starving, Hermione," he said through a bite of hamburger.

"How can you be surprised, Hermione?" laughed Ginny, "You've seen him eat."

"Oh, well," she replied, "you two go get your food. I'll see if I can't work a piece of pizza away from him to tide me over till you get back."

As they let lunch settle, they talked about what they would do next.

"I'd really like to try one of those big slides," said Ron.

"Me, too," said Harry.

"Same here," said Ginny.

Hermione laughed, "What is it with you three? You play a sport that has you dashing about over a hundred feet in the air, making tight maneuvers at up to 200 miles per hour, and you still want to do a thrill ride?"

"Aah, but Hermione, we're in control on brooms," explained Ron.

"Mostly," qualified Harry.

"Mostly," Ron agreed, "but here, we'll be letting go completely, without anything to control us or any way to stop – that's what makes it exciting."

Hermione shook her head. "Whatever. I'm just not a thrill-seeker. I had enough of thrills during the battle."

"Does that mean you won't join us?" asked Harry.

"What – and let you people call me a wuss? Not on your life, Harry Potter. I just wish the lines weren't so brutally long."

"Well," said Ron craftily, stroking his chin, "there are things we could do."

"Nothing doing, Ron," said Hermione, "if you mean using our ways to cut queue, you can forget it. Everyone else here has to wait in line. We're not superior."

"Okay, okay," relented Ron. "But Harry, if a little thunderstorm should arise, I'll bet the line would get a lot shorter."

Harry shook his head with an indulgent smile. "I believe I'd attract too much attention waving my arms about overhead, especially holding wands. Besides – look at the supports for the slides. They're all metal. If there's a thunderstorm, that's where lightning would strike, so the management would shut them all down for safety."

"Really? That's how they deal with lightning – just shut stuff down?"

"Really, Ron."

"Well, we can wait on line," said Ginny. "It feels good to be just a regular person for a while."

The queue went up at least ten sets of stairs separated by landings. They were packed into very tight lines. They were amazed at how, by and large, people waited politely, cheerfully even. For many customers there, it seemed the slides were the whole point of being at the park, and waiting on line was part of the experience. Although people started off talking among the people they had come with, as they stood on line near each other, they more and more talked to others around them, venturing to talk about weather, sports, jokes, politics, just anything and everything. More than once, the four had to nudge each other to avoid talking about sorcery, the war and the wizarding world as if it was just what everyone talked about.

At one point, Hermione commented, "I had heard how friendly the people in the American South were, but I didn't realize how much that was so."

A thirtyish man waiting on line with a woman and a couple of children who had done some talking with them overheard that and smiled. "Everybody's a friend until they prove otherwise: there's just some friends you haven't met yet."

The excitement built as they neared the top. There were maybe two dozen people ahead of them when the line was stopped and a small knot of people in identical t-shirts accompanying a pre-teen boy nudged their way through the queue, repeating "Pardon, please" continuously and bypassing everyone.

Looking at them going to the head of the line, Ron sniffed, "What's up with that? I thought everyone waited their turn."

The father with the two kids explained, "See the t-shirts. They're with Wish Fulfilled."

"What's that?" asked Ginny.

"Oh, it's a group that helps give dying kids a few last happy memories."

"Dying?" said Hermione aghast, "Of what?"

The father nudged one of the helpers and asked, "What's he have?"

The woman turned and smiled benignly. "Oh, he has leukemia, but it's gone to his bones and organs now."

"How long does he have?" asked the father.

She turned to speak softly, "The doctors say maybe a month."

"Isn't he in pain?" asked the man softly.

"Well, he's on very powerful narcotics, but you know they never give enough of a dose to really eliminate the pain."

The boy had already gone down the slide by now and the helpers turned and made their way back down the stairs. The father and his kids edged around to the staging area.

"That's really rough," said Ron to Hermione. "Don't they have any way to heal him?"

"They have a number of treatments, but some work better than others and none are perfect," she said to Ron, but glancing at Harry, who was staring into the distance sadly.

"So what happens?" asked Ron.

"Like she said – in a month or so, he'll die."

Now Harry was tapping his fist against his lips and looking down.

"Does it have to be painful?" asked Ron.

"Well, it's worst if it gets into the bones, like this has. Then it's truly awful. They have powerful narcotics, like morphine, that can block the pain, but because healthy people sometimes abuse narcotics, the doctors are discouraged, prevented even, from giving adequate pain killers, so the people who really need it and who would not be abusing it to get it, end up dying in excruciating pain."

Suddenly they heard a sharp crack and everyone around looked in their direction.

"Uh, oh, sounds like thunder," said a young woman just behind them. "Hey, didn't you have another guy with you?"

Ginny laughed nervously. "Oh, he just hates heights." Then she looked over the edge. "He probably climbed down the trusses. He's been known to do that before – he's an excellent climber."

"He's built for it, really wiry."

"Yeah, it's a shame he hates heights."

The woman laughed. "Not good for a climber, is it?"

Ron, Hermione and Ginny put their heads together to whisper, "Where'd he go? I dunno. He was just here? Did he say anything? Did something upset him? Should we look for him? After the slide – it's our turn."

As the others had suspected, Harry hadn't apparated far away. There were some picnic tables in the woods around the exterior fence. He appeared behind some shrubs and walked out past a family with young children having sandwiches.

"Hey, fella, there are restrooms just inside – couldn't you wait?"

Harry looked up, "Er, no, sorry." Then he walked to a more secluded bench and sat down, elbows on his knees, face in his hands. He thought about what he had just heard on the slide and didn't even hear the crunch of footsteps on pine straw.

"Problem, son?" said the man who had walked up, in a slight drawl.

"What? Oh, uh, no, sir," replied Harry, unconvincingly.

"Don't try to fool me, son," said the man, whom Harry now saw was a tall fortyish man in short pants and a colorful tropical pattern shirt, "A healthy young man like yourself doesn't generally hang his head like that without a problem. Let's see – you could be sick from too much sun – I daresay from your accent you're not used to it."

"Um, no, sir, I feel fine."

"Maybe for now, but you won't if you don't do something about it – your neck and back are red as a lobster. Here, I've got a salve that'll fix that right up. So is it girl trouble?"

"Um, no, sir. Everything's great with my girlfriend."

"Glad to hear it – enjoy it while it lasts. You want me to put some of this on you?"

"You're sure it works, what's in it?

The man smiled. "Let's just say it's an old family herbal recipe."

Harry caught a whiff as the man poured a bit into his hands: it was vaguely familiar. The man started carefully smearing the salve on Harry's sunburnt back.

"Well, then, what's got you down?"

"It's pretty hard to explain." The man looked at him with the same patient, understanding manner that Reverend MacBoon had always shown. "Well, okay, I'll try. I have this opportunity to help someone who really needs it."

"That sounds like a good thing – what's the problem?"

"I'm reluctant because it, erm, requires a lot out of me."

"Like someone needing a kidney?"

"Oh, um, no, well, I wouldn't have to give up an organ, but it would hurt like that."

"And you don't want the pain."

"Exactly. I know I don't look the worse for wear, sir, but I've actually had to deal with a lot of pain. I kind of thought I had put an end to that for awhile."

"You could just walk away from the situation."

"I know, sir, but that seems just wrong."

"Well, one should always do what you can. For me, I say 'May as well be a mensch.'"

"What?"

The man smiled broadly. "It's a phrase I picked up from an article by a columnist in the New York Times. Shh – I don't want anybody from around here to know I sometimes read that." The man grinned mischievously and winked. "The writer was a Jewish man whose father used to tell him that: mensch is a Yiddish word. A person can do just what is expected of him, what he needs to do to take care of himself and his family and to basically be a decent guy. But a mensch is someone who goes beyond just the minimum. A Christian would call it 'going the extra mile,' but it's nice to have a word that sums it up. No matter what your circumstance, there's always an opportunity to do a little extra to make the world a better place. It can be as simple as being friendly or letting another driver into the line of traffic. Or it can be bigger things as well. And the thing you find is that even if you can't solve all the world's ills, by making the effort to help folks out when you can, the world is a brighter place for you."

"Yeah, I see what you're saying. It sounds like something Reverend MacBoon might say."

"Ah, you have a pastor that you can talk with. That's good," said the man.

"So I should do what I can?" said Harry.

"'May as well be a mensch' - I know it's not always easy, Harry, but you'll always regret it if you turn your back on your fellow man."

"Okay, I guess you're right, I …, wait a second, you called me 'Harry.' I didn't tell you my name."

"Rats, I slipped," the man said with a smile, pulling a card from his pocket. It was a Famous Wizard card with Harry on it: the photo-Harry was smiling back at Harry and giving him a thumbs-up. "I've collected these for years. I was glad to see they were adding some new ones, especially since the new ones were of you and your friends."

"Then you're a …"

"Wizard? Yeah. Of course, I didn't need the card to recognize you, Harry: the scar is a dead giveaway. My name's Butt – Virgil Butt, of the east Tennessee Butts." Harry started to grin, but suppressed it. "Go ahead and laugh, make jokes if you want," invited the man. "You can't have a name like Virgil and not have people laugh."

"Oh, no, it's not your … Oh, you're having me on," said Harry. "Did Dumbledore send you to keep an eye on me?"

"Dumbledore? Oh, yeah, I've got a few of his cards, too, but I sure don't know him. No, I brought my kids out here with their friends and they ditched me to play miniature golf, so I was reading the papers. When I heard someone apparating, I knew there was a sorcerer nearby. That's how I found you."

"But you weren't going to mention that you knew who I am?" said Harry quizzically.

"You need your privacy, too. You're not here at the park to be a celebrity. You deserve to have some space."

"That's cool. I haven't gotten treated like that in a long time."

"Most folks around here understand that. We get a fair number of celebrities who spend time here in the South just because most of us will leave 'em alone enough to just be regular folks for awhile."

"Well, okay, if you know about me, then you must know …"

"What your dilemma is? There was an article in The Witchhunt about your ability to heal. Very cool, but quite a burden as well. What's the situation?"

"My friends and I ran into somebody dying of cancer. He'll be dead in maybe a month. They say he's had all the muggle treatments, but it's spread all over, even in his bones."

Mr. Butt winced on hearing that. "I'm not going to kid you, Harry – that's going to hurt. So what are you going to do?"

"Oh, I'll go back and do it. I just needed a chance to get my nerve up. Talking it over helped a lot."

"Glad I could be of service – in some small way. I don't want to act like a fawning fan, but do you mind if I watch?"

"Sure, maybe you could help us separate the boy from the Wish Fulfilled people who are with him so I can do it?"

"I'd be thrilled to."

"Harry!" Ginny was running toward him from the path. In a few seconds, Ron and Hermione also appeared, drawn by Ginny's call. Ginny gave Harry a hug. "We were so worried when you, erm," she glanced at the man, "wandered off."

"Oh!" said Mr. Butt, "Harry, did you wander off before you disapparated?"

"You're a …" said Ginny, as Ron and Hermione arrived.

"Yes, Ginny, he's a wizard, too. Mr. Butt, this is Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger."

They shook his hand. Ron was barely able to stifle his laughter and Hermione elbowed him in the ribs to stop him. Mr. Butt grinned. "It's okay – I can be the 'butt' of your jokes. I could kick about it or live with it."

"Or change it," suggested Hermione.

Mr. Butt shrugged. "Yeah, I could, but it'd be like denying a part of myself. I can live with myself – quirks, magic, funny name and all. Forgive my saying it, but you three are a mess."

"Huh?" said Ron. "How so?"

Mr. Butt laid his hand on Ron's shoulder, who nearly collapsed with the sudden burning. "You guys are all so sunburnt it hurts to look at you. Here. Take my salve."

"I don't mean to be suspicious," said Hermione, "but I'm cautious about taking unlabeled potions from wizards."

"And you should be. But I put it on Harry, and look at him now – hickory-brown, but not burnt. Give it a sniff!" said Mr. Butt, uncorking the bottle.

"Murtlap!" said Hermione happily.

"That's the smell!" said Harry. "I knew I recognized it. I just didn't connect it because I didn't expect to meet a wizard here."

"So, mate," said Ron, as Hermione began to apply some murtlap to his back, "Why'd you disappear on us?"

"It was the boy with the cancer. He needs healing, and I was losing my nerve to do it."

"The pain?" asked Ginny softly.

Harry nodded. "I've had a couple of months now without any significant pain. It was nice. Thinking about pain brought it all back to me. I had figured with the war over, there wouldn't be many occasions of injuries that the healers couldn't handle."

"The memory will fade again soon enough," said Hermione.

"I know that, Hermione, really I do," said Harry. "It's just that when I'm facing it, it's right there and terrifyingly oppressive."

"Well, you don't have to do it, Harry," said Ron. "He's a muggle, leave him to muggle care."

Hermione squared off at him, hands on hips, with eyes narrowed and lips thinned like McGonagall. "So muggles don't count as much? They don't deserve help or consideration? Do you realize that my entire family is muggle but me? Are you going to treat THEM as subhuman?"

"He stepped right inta that," said Mr. Butt.

Ron looked at her for several seconds quite abashed. "You're right, Hermione. Not always, mind you, but you're right. Every person should be treated with the same consideration. That's a big part of what we fought over, isn't it? It's just so easy to forget that when you live so separate from the muggles."

"Maybe that should ease up some, son. Here in America we've found ways not to be quite so separate. We get together for our magical things, but mostly we live with our muggle neighbors – not just beside 'em, but part of the same community."

"That's worth a try," acknowledged Ron. "Hermione, can you help me with that back in England?"

She smiled. "I'd love to, but Harry has something to do first."

"Oh, yeah, is there anything we can do to help?" asked Ron.

Harry shook his head, still obviously reluctant. "Just help me get the boy away from the attendants so I can heal him."

"Harry, would it help if you had something to make you forget the pain?" asked Ginny.

"Madam Pomfrey already warned me against using alcohol or other potions to avoid pain."

"Good advice," said Mr. Butt, nodding sagely.

"That's not what I meant," said Ginny. Then she stepped up on tiptoe, grabbing his shoulders, and whispered into Harry's ear, ending by taking his earlobe into her mouth and gently nibbling it. Harry turned as red as their sunburns.

"Oh, yeah," laughed Hermione, "I think Harry'll be able to get over the pain."

"Erm, Ginny," asked Ron hesitantly. "What exactly did you just say to Harry?"

"Never you mind," she said, eyes twinkling.

"Yeah, THAT is not your business, mate," said Harry, grinning. "All right - let's go do some healing!"


End file.
